Kings came to that pub on a somewhat regular basis, mostly when he wanted to be more like himself. His card did say John, but it was far enough from his flat that not everyone knew him as John. Muggles' brains were very adaptable things. He had originally needed to modify the memories of many people around him as he moved in, but eventually most everyone who had known John started adapting it their own, just accepting that he had to be John because those who knew him better thought so. But here, it was far enough away.
His eyes scanned the tables, spotting many of the regulars standing up at the bar. "The square table with the armchairs near the kitchen," Kings replied easily enough. It wasn't the obvious spot to sit and watch for people, not being close to a door customers usually utilized, and ideally having at least two people with sharp eyes, though Kings managed most of the time with just him.
"We'll just have to come out again," Kingsley replied casually, "though I suggest you try one of their ales. You can't find some of them easily at other places." He motioned toward one of the blackboards with scrawling handwriting listing the kinds of ales.