He was drunk. She could smell it on his breath, sour and sweet, some sort of high in that bottle of his, a drag between his lips.
'All right darlin'?'
Brash and outlandish, in his husky, deepened voice, and he lurched foreward. Almost upon her now. She should have been scared, some stranger accosting her in the dark allyway. But he had a sweet, innocent smile on his dusky lips, and a twinkle in his dark dark eyes. 'What's your name?' said she, and he ginned all the more.
'Jesse, that's me. With my gleaming sax. Why, what's yours?'