Narvin wasn't the clubbing type, quite the contrary. But where there were people, there was gossip, rumours, information. So Narvin put on the outfit that the woman at the shop had assured him was "casual"--white button down shirt and black trousers--and lurked in a corner watching the other patrons and listening in to fragments of conversation as they passed. Every once in a while he bought a drink to nurse, just so he would look like he had a reason to be in the bar. He drank as if drowning some bitterness or another, although the alcohol didn't do anything for him and he remained alert.