Grantaire was, okay, he wasn't bored. He had plans for his margarita truck once the whole liquor license came through. Temporary or not, the second he had seen the ice cream truck that could also be rented as a margarita truck in Inglewood, he had known he needed to rent one. It was just one of the variety of ways he came up with his money for rent. Normal jobs? Not his style. He just didn't last at them. Gambling was good. So was fighting. So were any of the odd end jobs that didn't take long periods of time to complete.
It was just another night and as much as he enjoyed Enjolras' company (anyone with a brain could see that he was still desperately in love with his roommate, except said roommate), there were just times he needed to get out because it was too painful. And because he enjoyed bars for the people watching. And the variety. And the atmosphere.
Getting another glass of whiskey, the artist was about to drink and sketch when he noticed Hook. The guy who had a little girl tell him he was a pirate. That had been an amusing conversation and even in all his self loathing, Grantaire was good at playing the fool and being personable. Why not make conversation? It was better than pining away pathetically with his whiskey.
"Well look, a familiar face. How are you doing tonight?"