A long way down was his preferred haunt. No other reason than it was more like what he went to out in Atlantic City. He had come to the island to drop off some packages people had him order and some food from his last trip up to New York. It was honestly like the most innocent version of smuggling. Not that there was anything illegal, exactly. Just that he was definitely running a minor side hustle getting people things they could not access on the island. Which was one of the main reasons he refused to move there. He had been raised with all the conveniences of the modern world. There was no reason for him to lose all of that when he did not have to. His family had done just fine with their living apart from communities like Summerview.
But afterward, he wanted a drink. Which was, clearly, why he was at the pub. Not so much get trashed. Despite Sid promising him there was no issue with him crashing for a night at the Bed and Breakfast, Nuno liked his own place. And he liked drinking just enough to feel it, get sober again, and still drive home. He only got heavily drunk when Jay called him to join her at the biker bar they frequent. And if she was calling him to drink, that was the goal of the night. Push away whatever it was that pissed off one or the other, and enjoy the mildly insulting and infuriating company.
Tonight he noticed a head he had never seen in the pub before. Perhaps a strange way to put it. Less the head than the whole body, but it was the hair and face he noticed. She was one of the servers over at Vino, where he went to pester Julius and James. Nuno watched the woman slam back her drink and shook his head with an amused smirk. One of those nights for the lass, then. He walked over, shoulder into a space next to her and gave her a critical look filled with mirth.