"What she said," Michael echoed. "When I said I hit a literal wall, I was serious." He held up a hand to show her his bruised knuckles. "Impressive, hm? I mean, not really, not at all, but maybe if it had been a supervillain or something. Ignore me. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely at the talk-y stage of tipsy."
The bartender delivered their new drinks, and he firmly told himself to take this one more slowly.
"How has your evening been? Who all else came, anyway?"