It’s a weekday just past seven, and Leon is doing the usual—sitting at a bar, nursing a glass of bourbon. Alone. Not for long, he thinks. Usually when it’s his scheduled get-drunk-by-himself time, these establishments are pretty empty. He likes to hit happy hour when he can. This time, though, he’s surprised to see such an attractive young patron but one seat away. Also alone. How perfect. He slides next to you, gesturing toward the glass that had once held your cocktail. “Need another?”