He laughs at that, because it's accurate and because of course that's the reputation he's earning already. "That's me," he agrees, amiable, and then stands up halfway to nudge the barstool next to him out a bit, so Steph can sit down without hauling around any furniture. "It's nice to meet you. And about the blue alcohol - I don't advise having any if you want to be functional for the rest of the evening, my professional opinion is that it's some kind of industrial-grade spacecraft fuel that just happens to have a sugar aftertaste."