If there's one thing James doesn't do much, it's drink. He good at cocktail hour, sipping through a couple of bourbons or whiskey to carry him through the mindless chatter, or he'll have a glass of wine with dinner. He isn't someone that ever got wasted in college or snuck out with a pack of beer when he was a teenager. When he was still on the police force, he would join Grant and Alex and the other guys at the bars to wash away the harsh days work, but even then he was usually a couple drinks then calling it a night.
He can't even remember the last time he was what someone would call drunk. Maybe years, maybe some thoughtless time he was angry with William or stuck in a cabin with Demetri or Daniel on a camping trip, which was always just an excuse to defy their father in every way possible.
Tonight, though, he is camped out in a booth at Coombs Tavern, a place he hardly ever goes, but tonight it seems like the right place to be. It's the last place he's expected, and the last place most people he'd know that would care, would be to find him. He has a lot on his mind. Too much. Bad relationships. Bad business deals. Bad people trying to attack him in his own house. He orders a beer and something to eat, and he doesn't plan to leave here until his mind stops focusing on everything falling apart.
He can't even remember the last time he was what someone would call drunk. Maybe years, maybe some thoughtless time he was angry with William or stuck in a cabin with Demetri or Daniel on a camping trip, which was always just an excuse to defy their father in every way possible.
Tonight, though, he is camped out in a booth at Coombs Tavern, a place he hardly ever goes, but tonight it seems like the right place to be. It's the last place he's expected, and the last place most people he'd know that would care, would be to find him. He has a lot on his mind. Too much. Bad relationships. Bad business deals. Bad people trying to attack him in his own house. He orders a beer and something to eat, and he doesn't plan to leave here until his mind stops focusing on everything falling apart.
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Date: 2016-03-10 07:28 am (UTC)Ordinarily, James prefers his own solitude. There's a reason his house is built surrounded by nothing but woods versus friendly neighbors with cups of flour and casseroles. He likes his peace in quiet. But tonight, as he sits in this bar, in this place he hardly ever comes, drinking away his own problems, he's doing many things he wouldn't normally do.
"No, it's all yours," he tells him. "There's a bunch of empty tables around though if you don't want to sit with me."
no subject
Date: 2016-03-22 08:00 pm (UTC)Shaking his head slightly, he replied back with a "I'd rather sit with someone if that's alright," before sliding into the booth and collapsing his cane.
"I take it you've lived here for a while like everyone else here..." He trailed off. "I'm Edmund."
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Date: 2016-03-27 05:34 pm (UTC)"You could say that. Yeah," he says, nodding. He holds out his hand in response in greeting. "James. You must be new here. Small town, it's easy to recognize new faces."
That and he used to be a cop. He knows even more faces than most people, he suspects.
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Date: 2016-04-01 03:51 am (UTC)"Coupla months." He replied with a smile. "I'm still adjusting to this place, though. It's new." He kind of let it rest for a moment, thinking about the town and how he had yet to explore it more thoroughly. Most days he didn't want to, which was out of character for him, but the man had figured it was the weird adjustment period people tend to get when they moved.
"So," he started again, "do you want me to buy you a drink?"
no subject
Date: 2016-04-03 03:34 pm (UTC)He pauses for a moment, thinking at least the guy was friendly. "Should I buy you a drink?" he offers.