"The drinks here really are top-notch. The bartender knows his stuff, doesn't he?" He sighed contentedly, already halfway through his second round. "By the way, this is the second time we've bumped into each other. Are you here on your own, or are you waiting for someone?"
"I was here with a friend, but he's already headed home. I was about to call it a night myself, but then you two showed up."
"Oh, well, thanks for staying, mate! Otherwise, I'd be sitting here in silence like a total weirdo." The alcohol was clearly starting to hit him; his eyes were growing heavy and a goofy smile played on his lips. "Now that I think about it... what was your name? Did I even tell you mine? I'm John. My friend over there is Mason." He leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially. "Is he to your liking? You know... is he your type?"
"Mason?" I glanced over, trying to get a proper look at his face through the dim light. "I've got to be honest with you, John. He's not really my type."
