Re: at the bar - 8 p.m. - open
"Holy shit, for real?" Brent blinked, briefly at a loss for words. His jaw worked all the same, as though he could not bear to not be moving in one way or another. He wrapped his hand around the base of the pint glass she had brought him: a Guinness to match his friend's, rather than the cheap light beer he'd been drinking earlier. He gave it a try and found he liked it. After a few loud smacks, he turned to face her once more.
"Okay so like a little girl," he said. "Did she say anything? Did you say anything? Did you help her... like help her to the other side? Like Ghostbusters or some shit?"