“We aren’t going there, though.”
Usually, if she lies that is, she’ll say she lives in Italy. “I just think you have had enough.” Or maybe she hasn’t had enough, and with that thought she steals a drink off someone’s table and takes a gracious gulp.

“Are y-you driving? Because that’s k-k-kind of illegal.” His expression does nothing to convince her of this digression; though his soberness will have to eventually peek through, he’s so depressingly drunk that he doesn’t even bother to match up his words with his own brain.
