Re: At the bar
Samuel returned the salute, already halfway through his first glass of whiskey. As his tab was not bearing the brunt of the beyond-top-shelf liquor, he had no intention of slowing down until he felt that lovely warmth spread to every limb and digit. He signaled to the bartender for a second glass, realizing that as the bar filled up it would begin to take untenable lengths of time to get seconds (and thirds, and fourths, and so on); better to be prepared with an extra glass already on hand than to be forced to wait until the well-tended buzz had begun to subside.
"You too, Paul," he said, calling to him above the burgeoning noise. "Sorry to say, but that advice of yours didn't help. Pretty sure my honesty only pissed Lia off more." He gestured to Simon, laughing aloud as he did. "Simon's got the right of it; feelings - and honesty, and all that shit - really do seem to just complicate everything."