<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/99/fd/61/99fd61a4709efc952d1ed15e96b98e47.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Sarah Chamberlain (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12372015#msg12372015)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>San Francisco (Bourbon and Branch (https://www.thrillist.com/venue/drink/san-francisco/bar/bourbon-and-branch)) | April 18th, 2015 | Evening<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Max<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Another day in the life<br/><hr/>Was she imagining things or did that smile seem a bit more predatory than most? In fact the man's entire face and demeanor gave off a predatory vibe. Perhaps it was the combination of his features? Sarah didn't let that scare her, even if it put a slight damper on her bubbly mood.<br/><br/>"Hmm, that's a good question. Well I'd have to go with the Balvenie 1971. Then again, I've always loved a good single malt whiskey."<br/><br/>The stuff was expensive. She'd tried it but she sure as hell couldn't afford it on a regular basis. It was a damn good whiskey and he had asked about the rare whiskeys. It wasn't really her job to judge or to inform people that they were about to part with more cash than they may have expected. That being said, by the look of him he may have more money to throw around than most. Although he was dressed casually his clothing had the appearance of being well made. He looked rather put together. Time had taught Sarah that people weren't always what they seemed. Looks weren't always an indicator of wealth or character. Never judge a book my its cover or as her grandmother put it, 'don't see a man by his cloth'.<br/><br/>Rather than stare at the man she thought she would at least make some chit chat while he decided what it was he actually wanted to a drink, "So I gather you're not from around these parts?"<br/><br/>Neither was she but after a few years she felt she could tell the difference between a tourist and a local. Perhaps it was the seemingly easygoing manner with which he carried himself. She could tell he wasn't in a hurry. Tourists were more liberal with their time, preferring to drink in the sights and sounds rather than rush the experience. Even at such an exclusive bar, San Franciscans were often in a hurry to get their drinks, to usher in the experience as quickly as they could before they were bouncing off to the next activity or to their homes. It was as if they were frightened of wasting a single drop of their time. In a society that was constantly moving, where free time was a rarity, she couldn't say she blamed them.