"Jarvis is my AI. He was the one driving it when it needed to be parked. The car's not named," he snorted, as if that should be obvious and the idea of naming anything other than it's officlal model designation was ridiculous. In most cases he thought it was, although there were exceptions, such as Jarvis and Dummy. Mostly AIs, really, but a few select cars. All classics.
He walked into the building and found a place for them both at the bar. Not difficult since it was the middle of the day. He ordered a bottle of whiskey and two glasses of ice, offering the second to the other after they were filled.
"So you're a pilot. What's your transport?" he asked, interested. A pilot didn't seem to be a popular import to the City, though by his state of dress and personality Tony could already tell he was another one of the poor sods that were brought here from elsewhere. Which made him, in some way, special. Tony wondered how.