"Oh..." A deep frown appeared between his eyebrows. "Are ye one of them loafers beggin' other poor people for money?"

"Um. No?" Or, at least, Anthony liked to think that he wasn't. The truthfulness of that statement was debatable, of course. "I do, like.....actual work." Kind of.

"Oh..." That seemed to be his catch phrase. He returned to drinking.

Anthony nodded. He took a sip from his glass and just absently looked around the pub. From what he saw, there was absolutely noone there he recognized or anything — but, then again, everything was starting to get kinda blurry so he couldn't exactly look at peoples' faces very well.

Harry handle alcohol well - a testimony really to how often he drank. "Ah well there is a lot of loafers out there," he suddenly picked up the conversation. "Why can't they just get a job!?"

Anthony turned back to face him again. "...Weren't you just going on about how there's 'no jobs'?" he questioned. Or did he just hallucinate that.

"Oh..." That made him think hard. Too hard. "Yeah well, they ought to try harder rather than getting money off o' poor people!" He slammed his fist down on the bar. Some heads turned.

A bearded fisherman in the corner relished in the sweet occasion for judgment.

Anthony flinched as he slammed his fist down on the bar. The fact that people were looking at them now made him want to disappear. This was so embarrassing. "...Right. I guess so. You're right." He didn't agree with him at all but he didn't want anything even more embarrassing to happen.

Harry nodded. "Aye..." he affirmed. He drank again.

"...Yeah. Exactly," Anthony just nodded awkwardly, taking the silence as an excuse to drink even more. He was kinda glancing around every now and then to see if some people were still staring at them.