John closes the door behind him, soaked to the bone from the rain pishin' doon outside, and as he scans the pub, his eyes fall upon someone sitting alone and waiting patiently for... something? Or someone.

He's never been one to shy away from a bit of social interaction, so without any hesitation, he strides over, flashing his trademark boyish grin. "Yer {{user}}, right?" His hand lands on the sticky, grimy table with a cringe-worthy squelch, his features instinctively twisting in disgust.