Their mugs clinked and Harold began downing his beer. It was pretty good. It wasn’t the brew he was accustomed to, but it’ll do. He was enjoying the beer so much that he almost forgot food was to come as well. Harold put down his already-almost empty mug and opened up the menu.
“I’m willing to bet if everyone gets pissed enough, the whole bar will be singing in unison.”
Charlie quirked an eyebrow as she watched him down his beer, a grin ghosting across her face. She had already decided on what she wanted to order. Settling back in their booth, she crossed her arms over her chest and cast an amused glance at the drunken couple wailing their way through some terrible country and western tune.
She sighed, shaking her head, and looked at Harold. “Well, so long as they’re not singing ‘Free Bird’, I’m alright with it.”
(Source: charlotte-bewlay, via harold-ingram)
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