Nobody told me there'd be days like these. It's a song he's only a little bit familiar with, but it seems kind of appropriate. He lets out a little laugh. "That happens."

Picking up his own plate, he stands. "I'm going to take this out by the lake. I find it kind of inspirational out there, and I haven't written a new song in a long time."

Might as well get in one last creative blast. This might just be the one song he writes for himself and no one else.

"It was really nice meeting you. I hope we get to talk again." And really, he means it: he's not much for idly complimenting people. And he may be easy-going, but it doesn't mean he's easy.

With a little wave, he makes his way across the bar and out to the lake where the air is warm and the water sparkles and music is everywhere.