"Of course I remember; there are computer records. I'm just glad somebody realises I wouldn't indiscriminately hit on an entire computer network." How he's managed to acquire a reputation in a place he's lived in less than three months is beyond him. Maybe, somehow, he just seems like the type. He clears his throat, ducking his head to hide the faint lingering traces of embarrassment, "I've been explaining that to a few people, this week."

Like, oh, at least two members of the police force. So far as he's aware it's not a crime to use beer adverts in a suggestive manner. So far as he's aware there's no such thing as a law in this city, so what the police do beyond doling out the disapproving looks is beyond him. Somehow, they're still intimidating. Particularly the women.

He takes a long sip of the wine and meets her eyes again. "Were you yourself?"

And how about that other time?