"Right," she says, and slips off the stool and holds out her hand to him. They stumble out of the bar and towards the elevator, and she tells him to hold on tight to the towel. Nice as the view may be, he probably would think differently if he was sober.
He's heavy, but she struggles on, helping him walk straight and finally making it to the elevator.
"What floor?" she asks, helping him lean against the wall.