It had only been a few days since he had arrived in New Orleans but already he was starting to enjoy himself. There was plenty to do, mostly drink since he got here. Something that was taking up most of his time ever since he left Boston, he would have to find a job soon if he wanted to keep this habit up. Today was no different from yesterday, he wanted to find a new place to go, get drunk and stumble back to his car to pass out. He hadn’t made any friends since he got here or even really talk to anyone, just kept to himself and drink like a sailor before he left. Today was some place called the Hookah, seemed like it would be interesting enough. He wasn’t much of a smoker but if they had drinks then he would be satisfied. Never knew either it could have a good atmosphere that made him want to come back for more.
The old mustang rolled down the street slowly, he was looking for the place, he remembered seeing it last night but he was really drunk at that point. He could stop and see about getting directions but he was like most men and didn’t want to ask for help. All else failed he would go else were to get his drinks. Finally after about thirty minutes of driving around slow he found the place he was looking for. He pulled his car into the parking lot out front of it and parked slowly.
Killing the engine he just sat in his car for a moment, making sure he had his wallet and keys on him, the gun that he had tucked in the back of his pants he put under the seat. He wasn’t suppose to have it being an ex con and all but he didn’t think that would be the biggest worry if he went back to jail. He stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut and locking it. A hand ran though his hair then down to straighten out the bunch up hood of his sweatshirt before he started to walk forward towards the front doors of the Hookah. He wore a pair of blue jeans with black sneakers and a black hoodie.
He stepped through the doors and took a long look around, it wasn’t his usual kind of joint in the slightest. The kind of thing that he was use to going to was dive bars and the like. Hands were shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie as he walked forward towards the bar. It was time to get down to why he came here, the drink. Some people would say that drinking alone was depressing but he didn’t think so, drinking was drinking no matter how you looked at it. He would maybe get social later if he felt the need rise inside of him but most the time he just kept to himself, less trouble that way.
He took the first empty seat at the bar and took another quick look around before he looked to see what the bartender was doing, he waited till he was noticed first before he ordered. No sense in trying to but in while other people gave their orders, “Four shots of Jameson and a guiness.” He only had to wait for few minutes to get his shots and drinks, he situated them in front of himself before he downed one shot, two shots then a drink of his guiness. He set the beer down for a moment and sighed, his gaze went back to the bar around him. So far there was no luck in finding himself a job as of yet but he was still looking when he found the time. Majority of his time was just drinking since he got into the city.
