Atton chuckled and took another hit of that whiskey, which was kind of like voluntarily taking a brick to the face, but whatever. He was trying to learn to be Atton Rand again, and that meant he was spending the next month or so making horrible life decisions just because he could.

Like drinking whiskey.

Or looking at the guy even his drunk ass could tell was hitting on him and saying, "Yeah? Well, we'll see. Pick a mark."