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[h2]9:36 P.M.[/h2][/center]

Any bouncer at this point would be tired, assumed Sabine.  That, and she hadn't the money or time to spend filling out surveys with [i]very[/i] personal information.  If not for the former two, then she could always blame the bus schedules for her tardiness.

As expected, the line was a great deal shorter, but nonetheless just as slow-moving.  Idle musings between people dressed in all manners of bright clothing stirred old memories, but when she focused on their words, the difference would become immediately apparent : school, shopping, even the latest rumor about a certain couple of upstarts making a comeback to Shine City were foreign; oil prices, trade embargos, false reassurances to mothers and wives thousands of miles away were more familiar, however bitter the words seemed at the time.  Here, the happiness...felt shallow, admittedly, but why tell the inconvenient truth when one could afford to lie?

The urges to blink and yawn brought her in front of Arty ([@Saarebas]), both of which were obeyed and executed without reservation in front of the taller man.  With the paper bag in her hand, Sabine pulled out from inside some wax-paper-wrapped parcel smelling strongly of mead, cinnamon, and raisins.

"If I remember correctly, this would be something served on Saint Patrick's day," Sabine started, before fishing out her ID card and ticket from her rear pocket.  "But I'm counting for you to have a bit of luck sooner than later.  I burned off all the alcohol, too.

If I give you this, can I make a delivery to Dangermouse and Haywood?"

The paper bag did seem to have quite a lot more inside, though what exactly is left to uncertainty...