"Did I ever," he agreed, letting the last of the whiskey trickle onto his tongue, then setting the glass upside down on top of the folded newspaper he'd been reading. He was, if anything, comfortably numb, and that had been the goal in coming to Finnigan's anyway, right?
George sat quietly for a few moments, then looked up at Alicia. "You know what I love about you, Al?" He didn't wait for her to answer, or really even long enough to give her time to shake her head. "You don't. Whatever I don't feel like hearing, or getting bitched at about... you just don't.