"Our?"
"City people, I mean. Ulcer people. We gobble the stuff up. Not surprising you don't like it."
Larry touched his forefingers lightly together. "I don't think I'd ever like it, no matter how long I tried to get used to it."
"Oh?" The stranger's left eyebrow rose slightly. "Never?"
Larry shook his head. "Or the rest of the City, for that matter." He sighed. "I don't think I'm the City type. I think I'm going to give the whole thing up and go back home. The City isn't for me."
"Have another drink," the stranger said. "Go on—I'll pay. It'll take your mind off your problems."
"There's a capsule that'll do it a lot more efficiently," Larry said. "I don't need bad-tasting drinks to ease my mind."
"You're definitely cashing in your chips, then?"
"What?"
"I mean, you're definitely choosing Koletsky for life, eh?"