Seshat had learned, over the years, not to actually take physical notes in front of her sister. It seemed to bother Taweret. So she committed everything to memory for later review, and in this instance, she was certain it would be helpful. So that the next time she attempted to make a friend it would not go so poorly.
But then, without warning, the conversation about what had happened with Styx got derailed by an apparent invitation to a male strip club. Seshat barely had time to understand what that meant before she was actually in the said establishment. And it was quite loud. She wasn't sure that shouting would actually reach Ereshkigal's ears, even with as much volume as she knew her sister could produce, not with the music and the giggling and the squealing. There was a lot of squealing.
Wide-eyed, she glanced toward the stage. Which was where her gaze froze, because there was a man with half his clothing off. Dancing around. And removing even more clothing. Her eyes stayed on the young man, but she lifted a hand to point slightly to the left, where she'd glanced the Sumerian in her peripheral vision.