He lurked in the shadows. Hanging around the dim passages and corners, avoiding the pulsing lights of the dancefloor as if they might light him up entirely, from the inside out, so not only might his face be seen and recognised, but his motive also. Safety was in being unseen.
He observed. Evaluating the opportunities, selecting a target. There were all sort of factors he had to consider. He had gotten pretty good at this.
Finally, he settled on his mark, and waited patiently for an opportunity where he could slide in and say
“Can I buy you a drink?”