The Third Eye
You finish your drink and start to flag down the bartender. He eventualy comes over and you order another lager. The large man sitting beside you taps you on the shoulder.
"Have you ever seen this band before?" He asks. You try to avoid his eyes, you're not realy in the mood for a flood of memories right now. You shake your head no.
"My nephew is in the band. He told me to come down." You're not sure if he'd be the type to like punk music, but you get the impression that he's not. He seems the reserved type, more of a classic sort of figure.
The bartender sets the drink down before you and awaits payment, but as you reach for your wallet, the man beside you pays for your drink.
"Thank you." You say.
He extends his hand with a warm smile accross his face, "Names Tony."
"Have you ever seen this band before?" He asks. You try to avoid his eyes, you're not realy in the mood for a flood of memories right now. You shake your head no.
"My nephew is in the band. He told me to come down." You're not sure if he'd be the type to like punk music, but you get the impression that he's not. He seems the reserved type, more of a classic sort of figure.
The bartender sets the drink down before you and awaits payment, but as you reach for your wallet, the man beside you pays for your drink.
"Thank you." You say.
He extends his hand with a warm smile accross his face, "Names Tony."