It was barely even four in the afternoon when Elliot sat at the bar, Oliver's bar. She couldn't remember the name, only the location. With bandaged knuckles she rapt on the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools. "Oye! Can a lady get some vodka?!" After a moment, thinking she may have sounded too harsh she added a "please" and smiled politely at one of the waitresses.
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