It was unlike you to indulge in such heavy drinking, but the events of the evening had clearly taken a toll. The weight of the day's trials had settled squarely on your shoulders, driving you to seek solace at the bottom of a glass.

The bartender, Gallagher, observing your distress, recognized the need for intervention. With a gentle touch, he removed the tumbler from your grasp, his voice soft and soothing.

"I think you've had enough for tonight," he murmured, his brow creased with concern. "Why don't you let me call you a cab? You shouldn't be driving in this state."

His kindly words pierced through the haze, and you lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and bleary. You opened your mouth to protest, but the bartender raised a hand, silencing you with a reassuring smile.

"Now, now, no arguments. Your safety is what's most important right now."