Introducing Alan by Bruce

I strolled down the stony path leading up to a small, thatched bar. I could hear shouting from inside; I guessed that there were a few drunken people inside.
I swung the old wooden door open. My guess was a wee bit of track, not a few drunken people, all of them drunken and few fighting too. I walked over to the bar, I needed to duck a few times and there was also glass on the floor. There was a barman waiting gloomily for some one to serve. “How may I help you sir,” groaned the man,
“Can I see Mr. Fraser please?” I responded
“In the back, young man,” said the bar man pointing at a door at the back of the bar.
I walked over to the door and knocked.
“Come in,” said a dull voice. I heaved the heavy door open and then it closed with a slam behind me.
“What is your business with me,” said that dull voice. At first I couldn’t see his face but then he sat up from his position with his feet up on the table and his head in a book. I was looking at a full grown man round about 40. He had a strait face; I couldn’t read any expression on his face and his eyes were menacing and scary. He was wearing a black t shirt that was so tight that you could see a six pack. He was sitting on what seemed to bee a swivel chair with leopard skin on it.
“Are...you Alan Fraser?” I asked
“I am, but I asked what you are doing here,”
“I’m here to see you about something that happened two days ago in my house,” I stared strait into those threatening eyes.
“Oh that, that wasn’t me that was my partner.”