"Brock Winslow," he said to Colin.  "Nice to meet you.  I'd shake hands but...."  He pointed to the blood-smeared napkin with a bit of a shrug.  Normally, he didn't feel bad about that kind of thing - the violence - but they made him feel it tonight.  There was no sense of justice, that they had somehow thwarted the system and deserved it.  He kept these thoughts to himself.  "I'm new here, too.  I was looking to get something to take the edge off and I found that, but this joint is...."  He looked at Colin, directly.  "Weird."<br/><br/>He gave a rough smile towards Chance.  "That's not a personal question.  A person question would be what color panties are you wearing, or what's your tax bracket.  I'm being friendly.  And, yeah, I'm feeling like a fish out of water, which I think is strange, because I've been cruising this neighborhood for years and years.  You'd think that I'd been into every place that serves alcohol in this whole city, to be honest, yet, here I am, feeling like a fish out of water in what I thought was my town.<br/><br/>"I should add, no complaints.  I like long-legged women in party dresses.  But it amps up the disconnect."<br/><br/>He sipped his drink.  Idly: "Everyone has secrets.  If it's not a secret, it's probably not interesting."