[Vasquez would rather not have this conversation both when he's sober and also when he can't seem to talk, because that's just nothing like what he wants. Grimacing, he thinks that if he could just shut up and drink, he would, but her song at him only makes him want to reply.
And, of course, he's learned that replying isn't so simple, because it involves the dreaded singing.]
[He already knows what he does, at least, but again, not something to talk about right now. That's why he just walks right into the bar and points to the beer tap, hoping that will be enough of an order.]
no subject
And, of course, he's learned that replying isn't so simple, because it involves the dreaded singing.]
If you want me baby that's fine, but don't keep up this silence. Ooooh, tell me what, tell me what you want.
[He already knows what he does, at least, but again, not something to talk about right now. That's why he just walks right into the bar and points to the beer tap, hoping that will be enough of an order.]