It's a little early in the day for the place to be very busy, but it's a good small-town bar- by American standards. The bar proper is to the left, and looks clean enough and well-cared for, with the usual assortment of bottles behind it. To the right is the unmistakable sound of pinball machines, one being played, one in idle mode. At the far end of the room (it's only got one apparent room, rather longer than it is wide) are three men playing pool. As for the bar proper, there's a skinny, somewhat over-tanned woman behind it, in her late thirties by the look of her, and one man in a blue-and-red Rangers cap working on a beer at the far end.
The woman behind the bar glances up as the door opens, but waits for it to close before saying, "Welcome to Spengler's, stranger. What can I get you?" The accent is American- not, thankfully, the drawling sprawling mess of an accent you get in the Southern states, but the still somewhat rural-sounding speech of New York outside of the immediate city area.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-08-25 08:20 pm (UTC)The woman behind the bar glances up as the door opens, but waits for it to close before saying, "Welcome to Spengler's, stranger. What can I get you?" The accent is American- not, thankfully, the drawling sprawling mess of an accent you get in the Southern states, but the still somewhat rural-sounding speech of New York outside of the immediate city area.