don't like 'em, don't eat 'em, don't make no damn difference to me.
it's ten thirty in the morning.
you know the law - no liquor before noon. could lose my license.
hurricane kept you up, too?
sorry. hardy just looks away. the bartender puts an empty glass down and fills it to the lip with bourbon. hardy nods a "thank you" and reaches for the glass when the pager on his hip goes off. he checks the number.
who?
what was that? hardy, obviously shaken by the call.