"Of course," she echoed, regarding the drink with a moment of disdain before taking her chances and just going for it, straw finding its way between lipstick that was too natural to be suitable for a bar that cranked rock out all night. Either way, the description of the drink was enough to sell it.
"Maybe I'll stop at two then." It must have been decent enough, because she didn't push it away. She had simmered down enough now that things were, in her estimation, even between them once more. She waited until he had doubled back to reply. "My name is Mercedes."
It unfortunately lent itself to a number of nicknames, all of which she got more than her share of hearing, but she always introduced herself with the whole thing. This grungy bartender who she was for -some- insane reason still talking to would no doubt take it in his own direction.