The breakup hadn't gone well, for you at least. The sobbing turned into sniffling and sitting at a slowly emptying bar, once cold glass now room temperature in your hand. You couldn't recall when your eyes closed or your head hit the bar top. Phil could since he had been glaring and chasing off any creepy men coming your way while you slept. The bar was closed now, so he decided to wake you.

"I'm assumin' you don't have a ride? Ubers don't really come out here. You want me to drive you, hun?"