"Who are you calling a damsel?" He had a serious face for a few moments, and then he broke out into laughter. "Maybe if they punch me, they will fix my face," he cackled. He was a riot when inebriated. At least in his mind.

Menachem laughed with him and patted his shoulder. "I said confidence. Your face is hard but fine, not everyone is blessed with good looks like me.." he gestured towards his own face before chuckling.

"You do have a pretty face, my friend," teased Marcus, then his laughter turned into chuckles, and then subsided altogether. "Thank you for keeping me company," he said seriously, "I do feel a bit better now."

Menachem shook his head, "Don't thank me. You're the nicest guy I've met in town. I'm happy to have someone to drink with, so I should be thanking you." He smiled and held up his almost empty glass to him. "I hope we get to do this again."

"For sure, for sure. Next time, I'll pay for it." He quaffed the rest of his ale and decided he was done. Then he turned and offered his hand for a firm handshake.

Menachem smiled huge, "Ah, then perhaps I will drink myself under the table, just that once." He laughed as he shook his hand heartily. "You sure you can make it to your room alright? Maybe I should find a girl in the district to check up on you and tuck you in?" He grinned.

"I believe it," he said with a laugh and return of the hearty shake. "I'll make it. I think I will. Maybe you should send that girl up after all," he grinned. "A little poke and tickle sounds like a fun night."

Menachem winked and grinned. "Alright, as long as you promise not to fall in love with her." He wagged his finger teasingly.

"I promise, I promise," he echoed his own words. Then he gave a grin and a salute, and would stumble away from the bar. Gosh, but he was tipsy.