Despite plying his friends with alcohol to soothe their worries, Bob isn't a big drinker. Whatever his run-ins with the law might have been back home, drink driving has never been on his rap sheet because he just doesn't agree with it. If he's driving, he won't be over the legal limit, and that's the main reason he's sipping on a Coke down the other end of the bar watching, with an amused smile, the blond man holding everyone's attention at the bar.

It's not just the story that has his focus but the accent too, something familiar, definitely not a southerner but he's met a fair few fun northerners in his time. That and everybody north of the river is a northerner to Bob. As a stool next to the man is vacated, he grabs his drink and wanders down the bar for a natter.

"Alright?" he greets the stranger with a smile and motions down at the now empty barstool.

"Mind if I sit?"