*blinks his eyes open at some point, a few sips into his beer, and realizes that he's slumped into his hand like a man half-tanked or half-asleep (and the latter might not be completely untrue—last night was rough—but it's an uncomfortable image all the same)*
*forces himself to straighten up a little, even going so far as to glance over his shoulder at the mostly-empty tables* *middle-aged woman reading the paper over a gin and tonic, elderly couple sharing pints and fries, and... you* *immediately turns back to his beer, blinking, frowning (did he see me?) (how long's he been there?)*
*is fairly dismayed to recognize the most immediate impulse, which is to go straight over and ask to talk to you* *even though they haven't talked in months, and he's been a crap employee and a crap friend, and you haven't seemed in the mood to put up with him anyway*