@dylanmichaels
He doesn’t know the etiquette at these things. In his twenty-three years of life, Tony has been in a bar a total of two times—and both times were while being accompanied by friends, in a booth, eating hot wings. This experience involves none of that. He’s here with people, yes—coworkers, but they left his side almost immediately upon entering the place. To watch some show happening on the stage (he can’t quite see it from here, or there, or any place he tries to angle himself, because of the sheer volume of the crowd surrounding it). Something interesting, he figures, but not interesting enough to grab his attention away from the actual bar. Where, hopefully, there will be some actual food.
There aren’t many seats open, and few that are, are wedged between people he’s never met before. Which is great for other situations, like diners, where Tony knows all about the etiquette and how to carry himself in your average ma and pa establishment. Not so great for environments where Tony knows fuck all about anything. But whatever! Getting out of your comfort zone and all that! He settles for finding the friendliest face and approaching them.
Which takes all of five seconds.
“Hey,” he offers a smile, gesturing to the stool beside her. “D’ya mind if I sit here?”
