Re: At the bar: Grant S/Cris M
By contrast, everyone knew Cris, even the people who hadn't seen him. There weren't too many men that looked like him in the area, after all, and Grant heard all the rumors even if he didn't necessarily approve of their tenor. He had deemed them both harmless and curious, however, since the people around here seemed pleased that their new sheriff was volatile enough to give them all something to talk about, and yet courteous enough to put himself on display selling greeting cards afterward.
Grant turned gamely on his stool to smile at Cris. He had quite a smile, this innocent farmboy thing, though he was the opposite of both. The accent made his eyebrows lift and the smile deepened. Grant's Brooklyn was different, both younger and older, not so nasal but with plenty of flat t's and forward vowels. He didn't talk as loud, either, nor attempt the emphasis of words that didn't need it, because that had been schooled out of him early. "Hey, Sheriff."
"Is it? I can't tell if this is busy or not." He turned to look out at the crowd, still smiling, pleased with the place. Then he turned back and offered a hardened hand with earnest fingers out for a shake. "I'm Grant, we talked on the forum." Grant made a key-poking gesture with his left hand. Anyone else born in this century probably would have made four-finger typing wiggles; sadly, the key-poking was as good as it got for Grant.