The bartender took her empty bottle away before she even thought to protest, handing her a new cold one and then moving away. For a moment she thought of calling him back, telling him that she had not asked for it, but the brief urge faded in the face of the way she had been raised. Boldness was not encouraged, besides, she was not going to make a complaint when she could easily just drink the barely alcoholic liquid.
"I can imagine not," Rita commented.
America to her was both an interesting, and odd place. As a child she had wished to go and visit, wanting to eat at McDonald's and KFC. As if those were the best restaurants she and her friends could imagine in that foreign country. It was only later that she realized that they could have much better food. "I will try to avoid both those places when I do get around to visiting America."
She paused to toy with the label on the condensation dotted clear bottle, before she spoke. "At this piano bar, or on the ship?"