*sees you out with a weary wave, unable to muster the will to argue (it would be pointless anyway)*
*pops open a new email from Duilien and blinks several times over the contents, reading and squinting and re-reading until he's sure he hasn't misunderstood*
*blows air through his teeth and taps out a short reply in the affirmative—because really, when a Lord of Gondolin issues an official missive to a strip club a full week in advance, the appropriate response is "yes, sir, will that be ones or fivers, sir?"*