More or less. Because she didn't just want in his pants. She'd wanted him, which had far less to do with what was in his pants than even Ninkasi had wanted to believe. Because that meant things... things that had implications she didn't like to think about.
“I don't think about those things,” she said into her hands, “nor do I give advice on them. I just make sure that someone has something to drink and let someone else handle it because alcohol and that do not mix. That is how drunk texts and walks of shame happen.”
Ninkasi shook her head and slowly spun the glass a small bit at a time. “As for the sex...” She paused, closed her eyes and swallowed. “He heard me muttering to myself in the morning when I thought he was still in the other room sleeping. So, I'm not sure if he actually believes it or if he just said it to try to make me feel better, but...” She spun the glass a bit more. “There seemed to be the opinion it was only because I hadn't had sex in the last year or so.” She paused again, this time to rub at her face.
“Which wasn't exactly true but that was not the time to go into grand detail of my eleven months of orgasmic history.” She also wasn't about to explain that she was fully capable of taking care of herself when needed. “Though maybe Dio doesn't count... especially since mentally I was with someone else. And Dio knows, because of what we had been talking about...” She shrugged. “Everything else I've tried... with anyone else... I couldn't.”
She was still crying, but, the intensity increased a bit. Which was when her absolute truth, that's she'd just kept buried under as much sand and sun and casks as she could, bubbled out. “And I already know. But there is no guarantee that everything is going to be okay. So I don't want to think about it.” There was some noise back by the bar. Ninkasi looked up and turned her head, just to see one of her bar-backs had come in a hair early and was stocking clean glassware. She looked back at her glass and was about to drink when thought better of it. “But... I already know. That's partly why I told Bast I was so completely fucked.” She didn't say exactly how it had gone down. Bast's problems where her own private matter, but the last part of the sentence fell out on a sob.
“Jesse,” she shouted over to the bar after trying to hold herself together, “can you fetch me the Polish Kleenex, please?” Looking back to Philotes, she added, “the bulk of what my other friends have told me can be summed up with this: you're an idiot, stick your hand down his pants..” Ninkasi wiped at her face. “Because when pretty much everyone you regularly spend time with apparently has a vested interest in fucking you... and you happen to be quite the Slutty McSlutterson since well... forever, and that's all anyone seems to thinks about with you... that's the best advice to take.” The sarcasm on the end was heavy. And considering she ended up having sex with Kratos anyway... She only managed to keep herself from sobbing again long enough for the young man who she had shouted at to come set a roll of not-industrial toilet paper on the table and return to work. It was a bar. She didn't stock handkerchiefs there.