“That does not surprise me,” she said, tongue-in-cheek. Kate could see why people might not find him the easiest to talk to...for one, he could be infuriating, but mostly she just figured he was socially awkward. Whatever the case, at least he was self-aware. The Clint of her dimension was of a similar nature, but then, it wasn’t like she’d been given enough time to get to know him better. For a millisecond Kate even wondered how he approached women if he didn’t “mingle very well”--she wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of those encounters ended in a punch to the face (she smirked)--but that was kind of weird and the thought elicited a very discreet snort.
Leaning against the bar counter, Kate tapped her fingers against her glass, looking back at him with her brow raised. Ha ha. Not that opening presents was strictly a kid thing, but she knew what he was insinuating. Condescending ass. Still, she didn’t miss a beat when she impassively drawled, “Yeah. Afterward, I plan on sending Santa a Thank-You card.” Less monotonously, she eventually went on to say, “Not much, to be honest. My sister’s out of town with her husband and my father’s buried with work so I will be doing what I usually do.” It came out so naturally that it was impossible to tell she was even a little upset about it, but at the same time maybe indicated that this wasn’t a rare occurrence. Kate downed the rest of her drink and set it down, shrugging when she said, “That’s a Bishop Christmas for ya.”