<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Name:</strong> Dorian Belmonte (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283560.msg14057451#msg14057451)<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong> April 23rd, Monday. 5:30 PM<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Small Local Bookstore<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> Avi<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Mercedes Quinlan-Morales (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283560.msg14056573#msg14056573)<br/><strong>Mentioning:</strong> N/A<br/><strong>Content warnings:</strong> Distracted by something wonderful.<br/><strong>Extra information:</strong> Slightly inebriated.</span><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://www.malemodelscene.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/David-Gandy-Prestige-Mike-Ruiz-03-620x789.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br/>"What a fantastic piece of ass, fronts not bad either."<br/><br/>In hindsight, it was probably a poor choice to go anywhere while inebriated. In fact, going to a bookstore was pretty low on the list of appropriate places to be while under the influence. Of course Dorian really wasn’t one to care much about such trifling matters. His personality simply wouldn’t allow him to really care what others thought about him, not when he already had such a high self-image of himself that others opinion were hardly the top of his priority. That didn’t mean this was a regular occurrence. It was just Dorian trying to stick best to his schedule, even if he was slightly tipsy while doing so. He’d penciled in the free time days in advance to stop by and look for a particular book that he’d been meaning to catch up on, should his free-time every allow it. If it wasn’t for the fact he’d run into an old friend he’d be at the bookstore, slightly less tipsy and less likely to make an ass of himself. He might not have looked like it but Dorian really did have quite the literary mind, and vocabulary. Not that the latest outburst from his lips really showed any of that off, but that’s for later.<br/><br/>He was wearing a rather casual attire, casual for him at least. With his latest client having pre-occupied his morning and most likely tomorrow morning it had left much of the afternoon and evening free for Dorian to catch up on a few things he’d been neglecting, namely reading and some alone time. Of course those clothes gave off the faintest whiff of alcohol now, scotch as it happened, but nowhere near as potent as the stained scent of his breath. Just because his eyes were a little muddled and hazy that wasn’t any reason to ruin his plans for the evening, still it was looking less and less likely that he’d already be able to read the book tonight. But least he’d have it lying around for tomorrow. It was a good thing he was rather adverse a avoiding hangovers, otherwise work in the morning would haven just added on to another problem on his growing list of issues. Speaking of which, the most pressing issue for the moment was not the line to get to the register but rather the slightly inappropriate, slightly might be a bit lenient, comment that he’d made about the woman standing in front of him.<br/><br/>Not that he’d particularly noticed the comment had slipped out; it was more like a passing thought that had accidently come from his mouth rather than remaining in the back of his head. Not entirely his fault, unless you considered the slight overabundance of drink to also be his fault then it might be fair to say it was just a bit of an ass of a comment. Of course there was always the chance the woman he’d addressed to, in such a lewd manner, might not say anything in return. After all he was a rather tall, well built, man, deterring from the copy of <em>The Murder of Roger Ackroyd</em> in his hand it still didn’t make Dorian look any less like a person that you just didn’t bother to mess with. His appearance certainly came in handy for his line of work, and even if it didn’t there was always his ‘other’ appearance to sort out any sort of unruly behavior. Not that he’d be employing that appearance in this case, not for her. After all while the comment had been rude, he’d actually been thinking up something slightly more appropriate and witty to say to her in order to get her attention.<br/><br/>Of course the phrase <em> ‘I don’t think we’ve met, but I certainly wouldn’t mind being introduced.’</em> was hardly better. It just so happened that the lewd thought he was having, and the appropriate comment he wanted to make, went out the wrong way. He thought about how to introduce himself to her, while what he said was little more than objectifying her for the thing he was interested in about her. But, to be fair, it could have really gone so much worse. Though he was no shelving any chance he might have had with the buxom lady, which was a bit of a pity. After all it was quite rare for him to show an interest in anyone, drink or not, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the lady in front of him just decided to ignore him. At least, he assumed she would just ignore him, most people didn’t really try to call him out on his bullshit, appropriate or not. That right hand of his, holding the book by the spine and resting it against his waist, tensed slightly as he waited to see how the young lady might react. Of course, if she did turn around, it probably wouldn't help that from his height advantage it would be rather easy to tell what he was looking at. Since, even if she did turn to face him, his eyes weren't going to be looking at her face. He'd be looking at her of course, just not in a way that would be appropriate for someone already caught red-handed.</span></span>