A bar was naturally setting for River. He wouldn't consider himself to have a drinking problem or anything but he did drink often enough he could run his own bar out of his home back in Dublin. He liked to use the excuse that since he was Irish it was expected of him to drink a lot. And compared to some of his country men he was a light weight. So on day three of his magical citizenship of Mariet he found himself in one of the local bars. Least he thought it was a bar. It didn't look like any bar he had ever wandered into himself.
He wasn't a judge a book by it's cover kind of guy though so after a mental shrug he wandered further into the bar and ordered a bottle of beer. Once he was able to settle into a seat and take a better look around he was actually impressed. There seemed to be a wide range of people drinking at the Tequila shack. Which he'd never seen happen at any of the bars or pubs he'd been in over his years of drinking. Usually it was one kind of group but this was a healthy mixture of all kinds of groups. The Chameleon in him was twitching and couldn't figure out what group to try to blend in with.
He raised the beer to his mouth to cover a sigh. He'd just have to float and see what happened.After mentally checking out the type of people that happened to be drinking he took a moment to check out the actual place it's self. It was quirky and a little run down but River liked how everything looked. He would be coming back to this place often if he could. He took a sip of his beer before engaging the bar tender in chit chat. He found it was one of the quickest ways to get to know what a place was like. No one ever gave bar tenders enough respect if you asked him.
He had only gone for mild chit chat, the guy was working after all, when he started thinking about ordering some kind of bar food. He wasn't sure how safe of a bet that was though. He could only sort of see the kitchen area from where he was currently sitting but it didn't inspire warm and fuzzy feelings. Still, french fries weren't very hard to make right? He chewed on his bottom lip while allowing the bottle to dangle from his finger tips as he considered options and the bar tender left to serve other customers.
Jack had something of a love-hate relationship with alcohol. He'd never been a huge drinker, or out of control. But then the accident had happened, the one that had nearly killed him and someone else, and he'd learned the hard way that even if you only are foolish once in a while, once is all it takes. For a while, he'd cut alcohol out completely, but then he'd allowed himself a beer here and there, always doing so in moderation.
And while the football regular season was over, his favorite team was in the playoffs which meant he needed to find a place to watch the games and everyone knew that you either went to a bar, or you got bar food to go and watched at home. And everyone also knew that you had to do it exactly right. What did that commercial say? Superstitions are only stupid if they don't work? And his worked. So there you go. So he was here to check out the atmosphere and the food, to see if they would be worthy of his usual game routine. He wasn't going to see his team ousted from the playoffs because he blew it by getting the wrong kind of wings.
To the casual observer, this bar didn't look like much. But it had a lot in common with his favorite bar back home. It had been owned by friends of his, and while it looked like shit, the food was fantastic. And let's be honest - if you want five stars, you go to New York, not to a small town bar. He went in, headed up to the bar and ordered a beer (Budweiser, and only Bud, thanks...none of that light beer shit; you start drinking that, you may as well start eating salads with dressing on the side) and wings - half a dozen hot, half a dozen barbecue. He thanked the bartender when he got the bottle, then took a couple of long drinks from it before he finally looked around, taking in more of the surroundings and the other people there. "How's it going?" he asked, giving a casual smile to the guy that he'd taken a seat beside.