His iPod left in 2008 New York, Gar was left to his own devices as far as entertainment went. Which might have explained why people were so thrown off by the singing cheetah careening down the street. "Well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk. Music loud, women warm, I've been kicked around since the time I was born..."
Gar skidded to a stop near an alley that led to the door that led to the speakeasy. He moved as subtly as he could towards it and knocked three times. The little eye hole in the door slid open. "Wow, you guys really use those? I thought that was just in movies and comic books."
"Password."
"Oh, right. Um. Watermelon sauerkraut. Which, have to say? Not attractive. Kind of ruins the old appetite, Paulie. George. Dave. Gimme a name."
Pauliegeorgedave opened the door and motioned curtly for Gar to get his green ass inside. He spotted Rose instantly, a shining beacon of awesome in a sea of drunken girls. And Sophie, who was also cool. And Rachel, who was probably cool. He crossed the room and slide in next to her. "Happy birthday, Rosie-doll. Like my hat?"