"Let's see," Jack muses, "what'll I have... You don't happen to know how to mix up a hypervodka, do you? Nevermind, nobody can get those right yet, let's see. How about a martini, straight-up, three olives, don't get too heavy-handed on the vermouth."
He looks down along the bar to the man in the corner who's introduced himself as William Shakespeare. To Iago, of all people. Interesting. Very interesting. Several decades ago, Jack made a tidy little sum selling a Shakespeare manuscript he'd lifted in the past and stuck in a storage locker until it'd be useful.
"And if you've got some little finger-foods to eat with it, that'd be good. I don't wanna have to put down my martini to eat."