How to Take the Perfect Shot

Prompt

A photographer and a sniper accidentally meet in a bar, not knowing each other's profession, they start talking about how to 'take the perfect shot'.

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ENJOY!

Hank took a seat on the worn down bar stool and signaled for the bartender. Scratching his thick beard and sighing, the bartender could tell he had a rough day. His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were dry.

"This isn't a popular tourist spot for no reason. Take a load off, relax, make a friend." Hank simply gave a weak smile and scanned the room quick. Nobody caught his eye, and not really thinking he'd be able to hold a conversation with anyone in the room, he diverted his attention back to the bartender.

"American whiskey, do you have it?" The bartender nodded, noticing he completely ignored him. "Bourbon, neat, maybe a drop of malt scotch, I don't know, surprise me. Oh, and easy on the ice."

"Sure." Hank watched him walk away to take another order. He hated working late nights. It was uncommon in his line of work, a bright sunny day was preferred by most of his colleagues, including him. Sometimes it was nice to switch it up though, rain and snow made things a bit more challenging but definitely switched things up.

"Specific order." Said the man sitting to his left. Hank looked at him from the corner of his eye. Mentally sighing, he wasn't looking for to start a conversation, especially with the kind of person this guy looked like. Lanky, small, almost rodent-like. Hank noticed he was balding a bit, something he was always afraid of.

"In my line of work, specifics count." Hank chuckled dryly.

"Tell me about it. It's always the little things. Jonah." Jonah reached out to Hank with an open hand. Hank looked at it briefly, ignoring it.

"Rough day at home?"

"Work actually-" Hank wondered to himself why people can't take a hint, he wasn't in the mood to talk but still, he decided to take the bartender's advice. "-looks like you had a rougher one, by the looks of it, three times worse." Hank tilted his head towards the three empty shot glasses in front of Jonah. The bartender returned, putting a glass down in front of both men.

"Make it four shots." Jonah joked before picking up the small glass.

"Four more shots than I got at work today." Hank mumbled to himself before sipping his drink.

"Really? What's your record?"

"In a day?" Hank rested his elbows on the counter and turned his head entirely towards Jonah, intrigued.

"Sure."

"Well it was definitely easier when I was younger, I had better eyes. Back in '07, I had about 13 clear shots, easy." Hank noticed Jonah trying to hold back a grin. "You're familiar with this line of work?"

Jonah nodded, "Did a couple shots today actually."

Hank was amusingly surprised, "Shit, never would've pegged you for the type."

"You can never really tell these days can you?" They both let out a hearty laugh. Jonah ordered two more shots, one for Hank and himself.

"I missed an important shot today, it was just one, but it was big," Hank said.