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"See what I mean, that kind of shit is why your spirit ain't sitting right," He accused with a grin, Val had the droopy eyes of a drink too many as she frowned, head in her hand. It was the second time in as many days she'd been at his bar top to wallow. "I am trying to be a good friend here, giving you good advice and you're like... objectifying me and shit." Divorce was a bitch, or so he'd heard. He'd never even had a girlfriend move in, so what the fuck did he know at the end of the day? If he was being honest, he didn't totally get it. He didn't even think she liked him that much, so the drama of it all took him a little off guard. The fry boys had gone home over an hour ago, so the chance of some fries to stop her insides from pickling was out of the question. Val let out a groan and set her head on the bar, a questionable choice given he hadn't wiped it down since he got here but to each their own. "Okay, enough with the sorry for yourself shit, you're gonna get hair in my glasses." He shooed, swatting at her lightly with a washcloth before sighing. "I finish up here in an hour," He changed out her glass of whiskey-tainted ice with a water, nodding down to it emphatically. "You drink this until then, you still wanna fuck at lights out, I'll drive. Deal?" She shrugged, not lifting her head. "How are you going to shrug at me, it was your idea?"
