"They? I cut myself off, m'dear. Besides, I have nothing to do tomorrow but sleep. I'm allowed to reward myself once a week with a hangover if I want to. But I agree, the shot was a bad idea and honestly.. " In a new tone that was purposely slurred to mimic somebody totally hammered. "It tachsted like scheet."
He would hold off though, another two or three beers and he would have to double Gustavs raise to convince the gorilla to carry his ass up to his room, stairs were a drunk mans enemy of course. He was content slowly sipping on this beer, sitting down just in case the alcohol caved in his ability to stand without wobbling.
"Ya know, I could bore you with the cliche 'So, what do you do? Where ya from?' but I can tell somebody like you doesn't prefer questions that bland. Your too intellectual for that. So I'll ask. What if you came back tomorrow and try out some of our fine dining? We have some of the best chefs around and if requested, they'll cook the food right in-front of you. " Was it a plea to get her to come back, or just another scheme to make a few extra bucks? At this point it was hard to tell, blue eyes settled on hers to listen intently. The music had not died at all in the background so he kept close so neither of them would have to scream. The DJ, against his every whim not to do it, put on "Redneck" by Lamb of God, one of their overplayed songs but a fanfavorite nonetheless and enough people were bugging him to do it. A 'mutha fuckin' invitation' indeed.