Normally, Snake was prone to being fashionably late. However, as of recently, (life threatening time bomb situations including,) Snake had an entirely new respect for punctuality. Or, in this case, arriving early.
Snake, admittedly, had not been thrilled about the bowling alley idea. As a general rule, he didn't like sports. (Basketball, in particular, had become a past time that he wanted to keep as far hidden in his memory as was humanly possible.) Damn the people of Los Angeles and their sick sense of postmodern gladitorial games. But Snake had a certain liking for the boy called Jake, and for him, and only him, did he accept the offer of a night of Lunar Bowling with the boy and his surrogate mother.
He arrived early. Early enough to get a good lay of the land, to note all of the exits, fire escapes, possible blind spots. To get a good sense of the employees and the customers. He was a soldier before anything else. And as such he had developed a suspicion of all unknown territories. Even ones that were meant to be places of family fun.
After Snake determined that the bowling alley was "safe," (or as safe as any place that required pedestrians to hurl large heavy objects at things could be,) Snake settled himself at the bar and waited for Jake and his woman. It hadn't even occurred to him that Jake wouldn't look for him in the bar because of some age-old morality about the ethics of young boys and the abuse of liquor. Snake had drank when he was Jake's age. And even in his world, where simple possession of alcohol was a criminal offense, boys still found a way to drink.
He was hard to miss. Partly hunched over a bottle of sour beer. Combat boots to match the camouflage pants. Black shirt. Brown leather jacket. And, of course, the eye patch. He did leave the heavy automatic at home. (The rifle, as well.) But the second of the two revolvers he left on his hip where it belonged. Hell if he didn't do anything in this world without his gun. That's right, ladies. Even making love was no exception.
But, of course, that was the most dangerous war zone of all.