"See," he said, "you're the smart one, for not mixing drinks. I can't tell you how many college kids I've seen in here doing just that, and it's a challenge not to laugh at them." Grant had been there at one point in his life, but that was a long time ago, now. Not only because he had Robbie to think about, but because he didn't really do nightlife since he and Sabrina had gotten together. Without her, he didn't have a reason to go out by himself - not until Raya walked back into his life. Even then, it wasn't like they went out to get shitfaced drunk, more like a couple beers after a long day at work.
Grant laughed. "Hell, if you break out into a chorus of Gloria Gaynor, I might just have to break out the old camera phone. That would totally be worth the possible mental damage, but no worries, you won't have anymore to drink after that." There had to be some perk to being a bartender, after all, and it was always better to deal with the amusing drunks rather than the annoying ones. The annoying ones just found themselves out on the street sooner rather than later, and they always underestimated how strong Grant actually was. Either way, it was probably a good idea she'd left the plastic at home, because that automatically assured she'd stay within her limits.
Unless someone started buying her drinks for her, in which case, more power to her.
He leaned back, watching her arrange her money, always curious to see what little quirks people had. Grant didn't judge, nor did he really care, but he did notice. It was good to see that he'd made a good choice with her drink, though, Guinness mustache and all.