Looking to the newest costumer with that same grandfatherly smile, the bar tender slid a menu over to the thin looking man. Even as he did so, the smell of well cooked food began to permeate the small bar, smelling of the most enticing meal one could imagine, hearty and warm. If the Stool's most recent patron were to open his menu, it would be filled to the brim the with most familiar and comforting of foods. No matter how hungry one felt, the menu's options provided what seemed to be the perfect portion for the amount of hunger they felt at the moment. In this case, rustic, home cooked meals of the Mid-western American style filled the pages, each chock full with goodies as the last. If he got a thirst about him, the pages of his menu would most conveniently show familiar brews and cocktails for him to enjoy.

"You look famished, stranger. Please, review our humble offerings and take your pick of any one of our lovingly prepared meals. Choose any accompanying drink you like." Wordlessly, the bartender presented the hungry looking man with a large basket of steaming, fried, potato wedges, lightly salted and hot from the fryer. Something to whet the apatite. Turning back to the first customer of night, the bar tender set a tall glass in front of them and filled it with ice and water before doing the same for the man who had just walked in. A little hospitality always went a long way.

"If either of you need anything, please just ask."