Template:Opco business day convention scene
The final panel Q&A wraps up: five hundred delegates hit the bar hard: Actual/actual chit-chat is thirsty work.
Waiters boogie-woogie through the crowd. They flog cold beers and live crabs on overhead trays. Nippers gnash. Punters chugg Satoshi Extra-Dry.
The vodka luge hits peak. Daycount chit-chat hits peak. The accordion swing-jive hits peak: breakneck BPM.
The Negotiator cuts a swathe through the hullaballoo.
Then he sees her. Hullaba-hello.
That’s — the girl from the agency.
The bar scene is chaos. His bar presence is zilch. He catches her eye. There’s a flicker and its gone. She looks down. She flushes red. She she steals another look through through that tumbling fringe: devastatingly demure. He’s drunk on his own success He rams a Tortuga chaser. That bad boy gives him wings. He sidles up.
She blows her fringe and contrives boredom. “You following me, pal?”
He cracks out *innocent face*. “Look, lady: I was here first.”
She looks him up and down. “Is that a fact.” she says it like a fact, not a question.
“Yeah.”
She scoffs, but vibes playful. She runs a finger round the rim of his glass. Their eyes lock again. “Oh, soldier, so you were preceding?”
He shrugs. “I guess I figured you would wind up here eventually, so I just made sure I got here first. I guess I was, ahhh — modified following you.”
He spits his drink. They get close. The party gets loud.