It was whatever night it was in the Big City, and Morgan and her newfound friend Alice were out to hit the town. But not the Bougie side of town. Well, not after Adam had to bail for something or other, not once Morgan assumed command of the revels, proudly doffing the captains cap and driving them to:
THE WILDMAN BARMAN OUTPOST!
It was the kind of place that was thrown together by someone that really didn't know what they were doing, but there peanuts on the floor, cheap ass drinks, and some retro jukeboxes. What wasn't to love?
(The staph infection rate in the men's bathroom, for one, but that was besides the point).
It was busy enough to fill the room with a wash of background noise, but they'd managed to find a table off in the corner of the bar, away from the pool tables, giving them as much privacy as you could get without a private room, or a handy dandy Sound Bubs(tm) to hide their conversation (and Morgan would probably never learn how to make one of those).
They were exactly, exactly, 1.5 drinks into the night, two half empty Long Island Ice Teas sitting between them, along with a half empty bowl of peanuts.
If Morgan was smart, she would have asked the bartender to water the drinks down, but, well, this was the amount of fucks that Morgan gave:
Did you see any?
She didn't either.
"Alright, Alice, if that's even your real name, Morgan joked, "enough with the small talk! How are we gonna do this? Parents? High School antics? Politics? Religion? Relationships? What's your poison?