[Sharak considerately stubs out her cigarette on the bar surface (which looks like far worse has been done to it over the years). She was nearly done with it anyway.]

I usually just go for whatever's convenient. [Which was useful, when supply lines started to go down and she couldn't afford to be picky. It's the motions as much as the taste that she's addicted to anyway.] These ones aren't bad, if you want one.

[Sharak pauses and then leans over the bar and helps herself to a bottle of whisky and a glass while the bartender is busy further down with another customer. It's fine, she'll pay for it, she just can't be bothered trying to get his attention.]

Worry too much about anything and you might turn. Don't risk it over a label.

[Any kind of label, really.]