Who: UK George, Lust Where: A classy pub When: Monday night What: Oh God, what are you doing here?
George had been having a difficult week. The Yankee's warning that the American version of Lust was coming to visit (or at least, had the means to come and visit) had put him on edge. When a strange woman had approached him unexpectedly in the street, he'd turned to face her with a feeling of inevitability. Realizing that she was an entirely normal human had been a surprise, since he didn't work to look particularly approachable, but he'd chalked it up to a bit of harmless flirting and moved on.
Then another woman had approached him in Starbucks the next morning. And one of the tour guides he'd known for years had been lingering very close. A veritable stream of women had been flirting with George, and he was frankly very tired of it, since he suspected that Lust woman had something to do with it. Letting them all down gently was mentally exhausting.
He slid into a seat at the bar of the pub, taking off his thick glasses (a surprisingly effective disguise. Perhaps Clark Kent had been on to something) and slumping down.