John didn't seem to mind the looks, any; he did consider the body his, at this point. He'd been rooming there for five years, and all. But he also could objectively recognize they- he and Jax- were hot, and deserved to be objectified as such.
Turning to the bartender, he ordered himself a Guinness, before starting in on answering Eric's questions.
"Oi, I try t'use me powers for good an' not evil. Which is to say, I'll get me own drinks for free, an' pick up your tab, aye? Music biz pays better'n I remember, me own long while ago." He nodded as he accepted the pint, taking a drink as he smiled at the comment about the beating.
"Eh. S'a celebration of the two things you yanks do well. Alcohol, an' blowin' shite to high Heaven. S'gotta be respected on principle, dunnit? 'Sides, folk on the proper side'a the pond don't care much for that chapter in history much, anymore. Had our own wars since, y'know?"