Abraham (or Abbie for short) walked in to the local bar for a drunk after his busy work shift ended.
He was still wearing his black slacks with a white dress shirt tucked in, and a vest over that.
He looked so dapper and nice; it was odd to see him in a bar.
With a charming smile, he walked over to the counter and propped himself up on a bar stool, which was like a normal chair from him since he stood at 6'6".
“Your finest shot please”
He said, running a hand back through his red locks, his hazel eyes shimmering in the light.