"I'm more of a spirits girl," she admitted after a moment. "Don't fill you up as much and you know you're gonna be mostly fine so long as you don't try mixing your drinks and drink your water before bed." One glass of wine amid an evening's supply of vodka was enough to leave Delta completely destroyed the next day. Then again, she was fairly certain that an Irish Carbomb was the very definition of mixing one's drinks. But that didn't matter because she wasn't going to be drinking that much. Not enough to land her with a bitch of a hangover anyway. Besides, it mixed three of her favourite drinks and that counted for something.
Smirking, she actually put thought into that question. Well, it was kind of valid. As much as Delta could wear the mask of a responsible adult, she was anything but. "If I manage to make it onto the bar, singing 'I will survive'? I will seriously question your mental welfare." Though she doubted she'd remember. And missing evenings were a sign of evenings well-spent to her. Unless they came with head trauma. "No worries, I took the liberty of emptying my wallet of anything I considered excessive. Including the plastic." She couldn't afford to drink past a certain point. Which, at that moment in time, was actually kind of depressing.
Oh, change. In her hurry to bring the alcohol closer, she'd forgotten the part where she was owed money. It didn't make it to her wallet, though. Instead, it was arranged in a sort-of-tidy pattern on the bar in front of her and abandoned in favour of her drink. With one rather large gulp, Delta visibly relaxed. She probably had a Guinness 'tache, but she really didn't care. "Goddamn, I feel better already."