Ben Boot (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} zenben) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
Ben didn't mind the head pat, and in fact enjoyed having his head scratched and rubbed. So he just grinned and enjoyed it. "I'm still older than you, Summerby." Twenty-seven, a groaning voice said in his head, but he ignored it.
Ben's nose scrunched up at the thought of paperwork. "I was an office aide for a few weeks several years ago. Only job I'd never go back to. I don't know how you can stand so much paperwork all the time." Ben needed to be moving for most of the day. He and paperwork did not agree.
Bourbon was not Ben's drink of choice. He preferred colorful, fruity drinks that would knock you on your ass while tasting delicious. He ordered such a thing, and several others for the rest, and when it came he held it up to Richard. "Thanks. Come and join the group? I think we're over there." He waved absently in the direction of the back of the club.