"Just follow the smell of spilled beer and bad decisions, right?"

He's known many a little hole in the wall like it. Frequented them too, once upon a time. Long ago, before he had more responsibilities, more tasks and projects that kept him busy enough to not sit still long enough to stew in his own thoughts. He's happier for it, certainly.

But he doesn't look disappointed at all in the choice of destination, striding along for a few moments before, offhandly:

"So. Your hand. That a sore spot or can I ask?"