One Of Those Moods

Washington DC
6:39PM

Zalmon looked up at the evening sky and groaned. Bloody meetings, bloody executives... All day long he had been talking, discussing the future of the company. Funny thing was none of them were involved in his future of the company, that had already been totally decided. Things were going his way, and nobody knew it but him. He chuckled maliciously as his eyes turned to a bar. It was a simple thing, nothing to call home about, but it was a bar nevertheless. He could probably enjoy himself there for the night until going back to his hotel, he had already changed into his casual clothes. He walked over to the doors and pushed them open lightly, smoothly slipping in through a gap just big enough for him to fit in, before they silently closed behind him.

He looked around the bar and groaned to himself, everyone in it looked like a prick. Though that was probably remenants of his thoughts during the meetings, having to pay attention to all those old fools was a drag. Why did they even drag him all the way over to this shitty country? Their company was based in England, and thusly everything important should be decided in England! He was their boss, he should be able to choose that... But he wasn't, mainly because he didn't want any of them suspecting him of what he was planning. The chance of them suspecting anything was, quite honestly, rather slim, but it was decidedly best to be paranoid rather then to be caught.

He sat down and ordered a drink, he was so caught up in his thoughts he wasn't even sure what exactly he had ordered. He just knew it was alchaholic. Probably. When it arrived he downed it in one, no even bothering to look at it. He just couldn't be bothered, he was in one of those moods. Not himself people who properly knew him, which was no one, would say.