Reinke twisted his wrist as he passed the doorway, snuffing what was left of his cigarette's tiny nub. Alright, fella. That's enuffa those. Though not incapable of walking in a more collected manner, Reinke most often kept a slow, shifting lumber to his step. The thumb that brushed his nose smelled of engine grease and nicotine, and he gave a little sniff. No, not 'cause it smelled fine, but because he had the sniffled lately. A glance turned ridiculously cliche blues from one end of the bar to the other. You picked a fine night, fella. His scruff, dark and stiff, had been growing for nearly two days. His jeans, smeared and ruined, had seen the underside of half a hundred cars. His hands, large enough to deflate a basketball, looked too meaty and lazy to rightly handle a shot glass. But when he dropped to a stool, that wouldn't be an issue. Beer. Good old fashioned beer. "Thanks, toots." ..Mmnnnmmm.

Reinke wore a permanent frown this morning. Sad, really, considering that scruffy mug of his wasn't half bad, if he'd just smile sometimes. Nah, he wasn't nursing a hangover or fighting nausea. Another one'a them downright frustratin' arguments with that girl, you know how it goes. Sometimes, dim walls and a long bar were the only surroundings that seemed fitting, in these moods. His pants were standard issue mechanic's blue-grey, and already smeared with grease and rubbed with grime at the knees. A few streaks of filth rubbed a forearm or a shoulder. And when he dropped onto a stool, he thumbed his nose with a rough, cracked thumb pad. Lunch break. He wasn't on the clock, so uh.. couple drinks wouldn't hurt.

Reinke narrowed little blue eyes at the lady who couldn't settle on a physical state, and scowled down at his fresh beer. This bar always ave him the jibblies, but it was closest to his garage.

Reinke already wore a wide, stupid grin when he shoved the door open with his shoulder and let his shoes scuff a bit on the floor. Where ever he'd come from had also supplied him with plenty of booze already. But it wasn't like Rev to bar hop. He liked to pick a place and linger until he stank. His grin marked each person in the room with the sway of his eyes and equal sway of his steps. Get a hold of yourself, man. Besides, he was far too large to be shuffling about. "Jackpot."

Reinke was totally in Henry's way, but not purposefully. He was just.. so large! And was moving so slow. And hey, didn't he look familiar?

Reinke winced just as the sight of it. Not that he could watch the strike transpire, but he could watch Henry jerk and straighten, and could watch the moisture retreat from his eyes. Damnit, you tard. He contained a burp in his chest like any polite drunk might manage, and walked with the little guy to the bar. There, he let his heavy palm thump to the surface. Attention. Anybody? Can I have fowr beeors? Two would do, and he slid it over with an apologetic squint. "..Sorry, kid."

Reinke stood rather abruptly from his stool, and it knocked back with a scoot and a bounce. ..And she was gone! "What the fuck! ...I quit! I quit everything!"