"You just always have a song in your heart, huh?" Harlow laughed, shaking his head at Mort as he drew the cigarette from his lips and exhaled smoke. He had changed his clothes, but his fingers were still stained, caked with a wild assortment of vivid colors. "S'what tipped me off you were coming, by the way. Climbed up to check you out."
"It's surprisingly cozy," Harlow assured Mort of the floor, shaking his head. "And a good friend runs it, so you know I can't keep the fuck away. MSG isn't bad, but sometimes I feel like a homeless person in there. I mean, there were always so many fucking hobos in the place, it's just so homeless to sleep there now. I hope you realize you're coming to the bar tonight, by the way. With me. I'll share my Ciroc."