Late night encounters #12 sn00p

It's a Friday night, I'm at the one place in this world, where you can go to celebrate the fact that you feel like a king, or the fact that you feel like a fucking looser; the bar. I take the last sip of my Falcon beer and wave the bartender over to pour me a new one. As I reflect over life and other issues. I'm wearing a big black jacket with some fur at the top, you know one of those classic winter-jackets. And of course, the well placed cap tilted just slightly to the right. I'm on a high chair at the bar staring blindly into the abyss of the half empty alcohol bottles behind the counter. The bartender is a 22-25 year old female with dark brown hair, she smiles as she slides over the newly poured beer, "here you go mate" she says. I see the fresh ice-cold orange-brownish color of the beer and a thick foam at the top.