Re: Quicklog, Mean-Eyed Cat: F. Eames/Steve M
[Eames drank the way most people drank, even if he was dressed like a man who preferred craft ale and micro-breweries to the regular. Eames didn't know what the hell a micro-brewery was, but it sounded suitably narrow in scope to satisfy the individualistic. He squinted at the board, but Eames' preferences ran 'wet', darling. Or at least, it did for now.]
Hard liquor, darling. I could nurse a pint I suppose, and remind myself of the pub. [Anything further from a pub that was the Cat, Eames didn't know. It was neither dim, nor sticky, and there was no questionable carpet in sight. He smiled at the bartender.] One for me, whiskey, rye and one for you, darling, if you're drinking. [It wasn't flirt so much as etiquette.]