```
"A rum, please!" Defoe settled at the bar and laid down a bill.
Originally, Defoe had wanted to quietly enjoy his rum and then head back home.
But clearly, Defoe was not going to get his wish today.
A man in his twenties, an African American, took the seat next to Defoe, showing an expression of surprise, "Hey, aren't you Defoe from the North District, the best at fixing cars?"
Defoe glanced at him, slightly annoyed that his drinking mood had been interrupted.
But the young man obviously didn't care about Defoe's reaction and kept babbling on: "The Ford you fixed up for my uncle, it's still running without a hitch, hey, you know, when I first sent my uncle to you, he didn't believe in you, and now, every time he sees me, he thanks me!"
Upon hearing that it was a customer of his, Defoe unusually gave a smile.
