Why don't I just do a little dance?

Anders had chosen this bar carefully. He wanted one where there would be a minimal chance Kathy would feel compelled to break up a fight, which left Pogue Mahone and anything in its neighborhood off the table. (Anders was a bit sad he couldn't introduce her to the wonders of potato nachos.) The place he brought her to instead was larger and bright inside, with countless TVs showing the playoffs for something or other. But it was clean, and the waiters seemed inclined to leave them alone, and that was enough.

"So," he asked Kathy, once they'd claimed their booth, "how do you want to start this? Beer's traditional, but we could get something stronger if you just want to get drunk fast."

[OOC: For one. NFB due to distance.]