Re: [Strip club: Nel & Eames]
He had. Eames often asked questions he had no business at all asking, to see if people answered them. It was either impertinence or an idle curiosity whetted by infrequently getting a response and he was very much at repose on the chair at the bar, a study in idleness. The question remained, and he flashed an unrepentant smile in her direction at the statement. Yes, darling, he had asked. Which wasn't the same thing at all as a right.
The golden rule didn't belong to Eames, it was from a book and it was about what appealed to other people in dreams, which was the business Eames bothered with. "Something that's a hair off perfect can also be uncanny valley territory, so I wouldn't take imperfect as truth all the time," he said candidly, looking at the dancer on the stage. "But does anybody come here looking for the truth?"
He stood, and he slung the loose blazer by two fingers over the breadth of his shoulder and left the cigarette end glowing to ash in the dish on the bar. His empty glass sat waiting the bartender's attention and Eames found Laufey's question entertaining.
"I came for the beer, darling," Eames said, grinning and it was a lie but it lay neatly between the two options she put out for him to select between. "You can find me on the forums." He didn't have a business card, Eames wasn't in the business that was polite enough for cards and stationery orders. Perhaps the company in general stretched to that, but he wasn't kept on for his acumen in a suit. "Ta ra." And he tucked her business card away into the folds of the blazer, smiled and left.