I stop and look around, nervously fluffing my hair before I approach the bar and slide on a stool next to a handsome brother in a gray suit hunched over what looks like an old fashioned. He's absentmindedly making amber circles with the stirrer.
"Are they any good?" I ask him and he jumps a little.
"Old fashioned, right? Are they any good?"
"Oh, yeah. Um...pretty good. Yeah."
"That wasn't convincing at all."
"No, seriously. It's good," he says, his eyes sliding up my thighs until they meet my raised eyebrows. "I'll buy you one. That way if you hate it, you can blame it on me." He mentions to the bartender with his glass. "For the beautiful girl."
Once it's placed in front of me, I take a tentative sip.
"It's good. Not better than my favorite. But it's good."
"What's so special about your favorite?"