Dutch Courage and all that, or whatever it is the kids call it these days.

Izzy gathers himself, feeling much the same, and appears at the table fifteen minute or so later. He still doesn't trust the elevators so it takes a bit longer with all those stairs. That and he's had to change. His only decent shirt is fucked so here he is in Tommy fucking Bahama. In public. At long last. Horrible.

"Do you prefer sweet or sour?"