it gives me an excuse to have a drink in the middle of the night. (from valerie)
if that’s not something he understands, then what will he understand? it doesn’t get a laugh from john. he laughs rarely. it’s more of a shift in expression. he has been spending more nights than not lately nursing a glass of bourbon or whiskey and dosing up on that rather than painkillers. there is nothing sadder, in some ways, than drinking strong liquor alone in your hotel room sometime past midnight. you need a good excuse to do that kind of thing with a clear conscience, and john knows that he has a relatively good one.
still, though, he shrugs. “trust me, i know the feeling very well.”
there is a long pause. john knows that he and valerie aren’t always the friendliest. but they respect each other on some level - as professionals, certainly, and sometimes you have to bite the bullet, so to speak, and admit when there’s a common goal. “you need less of an excuse if you’re not drinking alone, i guess. i’ve got some bourbon. not expensive, but it’s… it gets the job done, for middle of the night drinking.”
