location: widow's bite for: closed for @divineinfamy (any muse)
The Widow's Bite. An establishment Chester had passed countless times on his aimless walks through town, though hadn't ever deigned to stop into. Drinking alone wasn't the problem- that he was familiar enough with- but rather the idea of drinking alone in public, and in a town he'd been a resident of long enough to make a drinking buddy or two in, no less. Still, their gimmick was a good one, especially for the season, and Chester wasn't feeling like heading straight home after work. So, before leaving he'd slipped on one of the never-used doctor's coats from the clinic's storeroom, draped his stethoscope over his shoulders, and hoped he wouldn't get called out for attempting to pass the getup as a costume. Now he sat, twenty minutes into his venture and wondering if he should've simply gone home, nursing a now-watered-down whiskey on ice, eyes moving from one end of the bar to the other, searching for someone to pull him from his isolation. "Well, this has been quite the evening." He muttered to no one in particular.
