"Uhm. Fish. I like fish. Not shellfish, though, so I'm not sure that counts." The beard was distracting him still, but he tried to forget about it as the car trundled closer to the Pax. A quick shave and he would be good as new. "Right now, I'm slightly more worried about whether the place has a well stocked bar," he quipped, feeling himself relax to the beat of Charlie Watts's drums. Dinner and drinks sounded nice, actually. Much better than sitting around the house and focusing on his woes. "I can't promise to be great company. Nights like this, I can get a little..." How to explain it without going into his migraines and their symptoms? "Cranky. It happens to the best of us, I guess."