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While he knew full well that it likely wasn't wise to be spending what remained of his quickly depleting bank account on something so frivolous an unnecessary as alcohol, Connor really just couldn't seem to argue himself out of it. Mostly because to him, it actually seemed very necessary. Besides that, he'd landed himself a part time job as a security guard at the hospital, which would not only soon become a source of income to replenish his now short supply, but also, was a cause for celebration!

And so, another shot of whiskey was tossed back, the empty glass turned over set down with a loud clink, when a familiar voice arose to one side of him.

Smoothly he turned, lips already lifting in a half smirk as he let his gaze travel over Chel, and to whatever she thought actually passed for suitable beverage.

"Not really." Just any day that ended in y. He shrugged, looking back up to her face. "I mean, it's a nice enough venue, but I find it occasionally lets in a few questionable people. Of the dumpster diving, dirty b***h variety."

His smirk widened as he reached for the shot that the bartender had left for him, who knew Connor well enough to assume he'd want another. "Cheers, sweetheart. How've you been?"

"Ya you're really ******** classy." He side eyed the drink, before nudging it further towards her with an elbow in a thanks but seriously no thanks gesture, before downing his second shot, grinning with a flash of teeth and sighing with a quiet "Ah." of satisfaction.

The sloppy kiss, however, ruined his momentary bliss, and he wrinkled his nose while reaching out to give her a light shove.

"Charming, too." He noted with much dryness and a flat stare. "How ******** much have you had to drink?"

"I suppose if you're not lying on the floor in a puddle of vomit -your own or otherwise- than yes, you're doing just fine." He rolled his eyes, and then turned to eye the bartender, jerking his head and raising two fingers to indicate he'd like a couple more, before turning back to the room at large, with all of it's occupants.

"Slim pickings, tonight." He let his gaze slide over the crowd. "I might need to be quite a bit more drunk before any of them look even remotely ********."

At least the night was young. There was time for something worthwhile to wander in.

Connor's knee jerk reaction was to duck away any time Chel's hand came even remotely close to his head, and this time was no exception, though she managed to get him anyway (though thankfully not enough to mar his impeccable ******** style).

"It's a ritual." He stated, hands going into the front of his jeans pockets, thumbs curling around belt loops as he leaned back against the bar. "Five shots to get my night started. No more, no less." And normally, after that, he'd switch to water and just ride out the buzz. However, he was also known to stray from that path on occasion. Those were some of the best nights, though more often some of the worst.

s**t faced Connor was really just not so great at making good choices.

He snorted at her own self-assessment as he continued to scour the crowd for a gem among the turds. "You're passable, I guess." His voice was still dry, but he grinned, giving her a sidelong look.

He rolled his shoulders before swiveling his head to pin Chel with a deadpan look. "What light-weight piss a** p***y have you got me mistaken for?" He grumped, and then turned his body more when his shots arrived, taking one hand out of his pocket to pick up the first in line.

"Well <********>, with that attitude, you'll be lucky if you even get a fancy dinner, first." he downed the shot, and then looked to where she was pointing, squinting in the dim light.

"Nah. Took him home once before." He set his shot glass down and gestured with the same hand, holding up his thumb and index finger roughly an inch apart.

"The wrapping paper was decidedly better than the package."

Connor was downing his second shot when Chel chose just that exact moment to insult his manhood. With a spluttering cough he slammed the shot glass back down and held a hand to his chest as the amber liquid burned in his lungs.

"b***h." He managed to wheeze out, though probably more for the burning ache in his chest than for compensation comment.

"******** you." He barely managed as well, as he beat a fist against his chest and coughed a few more times, his eyes watering. Taking a few shallow, experimental breaths, he straightened, and then gave her a narrow eyed expression.

"Besides, I don't recall you ever complaining before, sweetheart."

Eyes back to the door, as small group of twenty-somethings made their way inside.

"Hrm. She's new." He said, eyes following a dark haired beauty who was laughing along with her friends.