"I got one more shot left!" Jamie insists, groping for it. He's almost too hammered to even do that much, but by some miracle he manages to pick up the shot glass and get all of the liquor where it belongs, in his bloodstream waiting to kill more braincells. Very deliberately, he places the glass back on the bar and peers at the bartender.

"Sor - sorry 'bout the other one. You might wanna put up a, one'a those - those little yellow signs or somethin'. So people don't step on it."

The bartender nods in a long-suffering manner and makes some noncommittal noises. She's been working at æther too long to really be fazed by this particular drunken idiot.

Jamie turns back to Ryouta and gives him a playful little push. "An' I don't need to be carried, I'm fine. Lookit me, I'm fine!" He only trips over a couple of chairs as he starts tottering off, giggling "oops" as he does so. "Are you comin'?"