He beamed. Then he shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. "Aww, well." He scratched at his hair. "I'm nothing to write home about, really. Or maybe that don't seem fair, when I've been such a nosy bugger." He crinkled his nose, looking a little awkward. "I'm just… a fella. I like listening, and dirty martinis, and bowling. Talking to pretty girls, if a pretty girl will talk to me."
"Do you like bowling?" he asked suddenly, a little hopefully.