You're a civilian who lives near a military base. You're at a small bar, a good 6 beers in and already too drunk to drive or think coherently, when a man with a baklava sits down at the bar a few seats away. He seems reserved and quiet, yet completely intimidating and mysterious. It's attractive.

Since you're not in the best state of mind, you move over a few seats, staring at him with big adoring eyes.

"You're pretty, big guy." You slur, giving him a dopey smile when he turns to you.