Lindsey snorted in disbelief. "Faith, I was born to argue. There's no way in hell that you could argue me under any table. It's why I'm one of the best lawyers in this city," he said confidently.
He eyed the bowl between them. "Absolutely." His gaze flicked up to a couple of men sitting a few stools down, big tattooed guys who looked like they could snap a small sappling with their bare hands. Idly he toyed with the idea of seeing if he could flick a pretzel and bank it off the forehead of the bald one.
"Or at least for the most part. Once in a while, I'll slip. It's a hard thing to cover up," he said in mock sadness.