Who? Robin Scherbatsky & OPEN Where? The pub When? After his arrival. What? Confusion and helping a newbie out. Status? Ongoing, open Rating? Possibly high, for language and innuendo.
None of this really made a great deal of sense, but it didn't seem like the craziest situation Robin had ever ended up in. From what he could remember, he'd had a blind date the night before. Yes, he could remember the dinner, he could remember paying the bill (what sort of women didn't even offer to split it, in this day and age?), he could remember getting invited up for coffee, and even though he'd promised himself that he was going to stop sleeping with people on the first date, he really didn't have another explanation for it. He'd obviously drank more with dinner that he had realised, got laid, and slipped away while she was still sleeping. That would explain why he didn't recognise his surroundings- but no matter how far he'd wandered through the area, he couldn't find any cabs, any train station, bus shelters- nothing.
So, eventually, he ducked into one of the few places that actually seemed to be open. And where better than a pub, really? Maybe they'd have a phone he could use, ask where he was and call someone for a ride home. The place was pretty empty. He walked up to the bar, looking around for a bartender or something.
"Hey- is this place open, or...?" he called out, knocking on the bartop impatiently.