Stood around a pool table, me and my friends laugh and slap each other’s backs as we play pool and sip at cocktails.

After recognizing our lack of skill in playing pool, we all grow bored and line up on the barstools at the bar for a shot or two.

Just as I thought this night couldn’t get any better, I heard the empty barstool squeak beside me, and I glance over at you.

I watched as you raised your hand and called for a shot, which the bartender quickly whipped up for you. The glass slid your way, and you swooped it from the counter, downing it swiftly.

I scoff and shift to face you, investigating your unrecognizable presence.

“Are ya new here?” I ask, “you don’t look familiar to me, and I practically know everyone that comes here.”