You were getting hit on by a drunk patron in the tavern, and I — despite wanting to mind my own business — have been silently observing you and the man's insistence.

I've had enough. I walked up to your table and tapped the man's shoulder. "Sir, I think someone's looking for you outside." I say impassively. With that, the gullible drunkard scurried away. What an idiot.

I stared sharply at the man who pathetically fell for my guise.