Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

Summer and Stark were, at this point, on their third space bar, and the evening had been going well. There was a little bit of space shopping before hand, to ensure that they looked their space best, and the first two space bars had been great. This one, however, was not impressing Summer very much, so it might not be too long before they found their way to Space Bar #4. She was pretty sure those were strands of 'Get Schwifty' mixed into whatever god-awful dub-step garbage the DJ was pumping out, and she was having some issues with the jerk bartender.

"That's so speciesist!" she declared. "You can't just assume I can't handle it just because I'm from Earth. I once huffed an entire K-Zax Array!"

"You huffed a Marlazzeh Gay?"

"No!" said Summer. "Well...maybe. I've had some pretty wild weekends lately, but what I said was K-Zax Array! Do you know what that is? That's like smoking The Ring, okay? Most pilots die after three days!"

"I still can't serve that to Earthlings. Federation law."

"Bitch," said Summer, "I destroyed the Federation!"

The bartender looked unimpressed.

"Ugh! Fine! Just...get me two of those glowing smoking ones in the fancy glasses, then, I guess."

And, once she had those two glowing smoking drinks in the fancy glasses, she drifted back over to where Stark was waiting to hand him one and then liberally take a drink from her own. "That bartender," she announced, "sucks. I swear to god, if you tip him over ten percent, I'm leaving you here."

She knew it would probably be impossible to convince Stark not to tip at all, so she figured that was a good compromise.

"....okay, fifteen percent," she allowed, looking at her drink, impressed, "because, damn, that's actually really good. Or I'm already really drunk. One of the two."

[[ for the egregiously modded alien with her, and NFB for distance, obvi ]]