Jimmy hitched one wizened buttock onto a barstool and tried to catch the little red heads eye. He was on his way to work - the Manor ball held no interest at all for him - but needed a couple of shots before he tackled the mess and mania of what would be one of the busiest nights of the year.
"Bushmills, sweetie," he growled when she could no longer decently ignore him. "Make it a double - keep the change."