Technically, they had 'work' every night on top of his own little side hustle selling bath bombs to local shops, which had taken a very positive turn in recent years.
But... they figured he deserved a little night out. Collecting energy was tiring, and boring to boot if you didn't make it kind of fun.
Besides, he was armed with a melted ice pop; how safe was -that-? Apparently, if he worked hard and put his nose to the grindstone, he might 'level up' and get something better than that, but he wasn't yet super motivated to believe that it wouldn't be a 'bigger ice pop' or one of those stress noodles you could squeeze and use as a soggy trunchon.
He picked the bar at... somewhat random. Not at all because it was in conjunction with a tempting tattoo shop. But maybe that did factor in a 'little'.
The idea of getting something permanently inked into his skin was more and more tempting these days; he just hadn't locked in on a design and... maybe they had flash he'd like. If nothing else, they'd absolutely have a drink he'd like.
First stop, he found a seat at the bar and slid onto it, clack-clattering his many bracelets and assorted rings on the counter, quite pleased with the sound. Fishing for his ID, he raised it and waited to be asked what he'd like to drink, which was going to be narrowed down by what was on tap.
itspao_
