Angel walked down the street of his new neighborhood. He had barely a couple twenties in his wallet, but he needed to go out. He had yet to find a job in the new city, but tonight, he just wanted to relax and unwind.
His hands were still sore from carrying boxes up his four-floor walk up all day. It was a warm, summer night and he had yet to put in the AC. Once he’d put down the final cardboard box, he went to his fridge for a drink, parched, only to discover the obvious: nothing inside. Feeling accomplished and eager to treat himself, he grabbed his keys and headed out to find a bar.
His mind wandered as he took in his new surroundings, nearly losing track of which way he was going. His eyes soon caught onto the glow of a neon sign that read “Pan’s Dancers at Growl Bar” in the distance. Curious and still in need of a drink, he picked up the pace and headed inside.
The place was pretty full. It was just late enough that he could see the place was busy, but early enough that he didn’t need to fight for the bartender’s attention. Finally with a cold beer soothing the sore palms of his hands, he took a deep breath. Finally, some peace.
Beside him was a handsome man, appearing to be in his late 40s, early 50s. Scruffy faced and well built. The good looking stranger eyed him as he continued to drink his beer.
“You must be new,” the bearded man said plainly, seeming eager to start up a conversation.
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