Ethan was in luck- Tony had no desire to offer help at the moment. Truth was he had enough in his own mind to sort out- he didn't need to be sorting out anyone else. At the moment, he was more concerned with how long it was taking the bartender to fill his order.
Finally, the bartender returned with his drink. Tony scowled and took the drink. "Took your fine, bloody, time," he muttered under his breath.
One half decent thing about America, though, was the liquor. It wasn't as strong as he was used to but it didn't taste nearly as God-awful as the beer. "Is everyone in this city this cheerful or have I just been lucky to see it at its best?" he questioned aloud to no one in particular.