Roland clipped his Zippo shut. As he was pocketing it, the hand rolled cigarette between his lips, he spotted the man with the guitar case. Indeed, this was a man, short though he may have been. Roland stood a full 6'2 with long legs that made full use of his height, and he was accustomed to being taller than most everyone else. Another short stack was no surprise in his world.
Expressionless, he watched the man, but he didn't leave the gazebo. He sat on one of the benches. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that Roland wasn't going to say anything. He tipped his chin toward the white washed ceiling of the gazebo and exhaled smoke from his last pull. The guy still wasn't coming up. Roland was not only accustomed to being taller than others, he was also accustomed to others fearing him, or at least being hesitant at the sight of him. Which was why he looked at the man and decided to say something after all.