Who? Hemingway & Abi Where? The club When? After their network conversation, backdated. What? Drinking, playing cards, talking Rating? Moderate Open? Gatsby cameo. Otherwise ask first.
"I'm just going to say it," Ernest was saying, not even bothering to say hello as Abi arrived. "It's really fucking weird to be served a drink by someone a friend of mine just imagined up," he told her, referring to the Whiskey Sour that Gatsby had just placed in front of him.
"Oh, don't worry, none taken," Gatsby had retorted with a bit of a laugh.
"I'm sorry, but come on. Do you think I could write someone so real that they might end up here? I don't know how I'd deal with the God complex, you know? Drink?" he asked of her, as if the answer was ever going to be no.