Penelope does the same. Alcohol helps, with these things, because there's always some little part in the back of her mind that hasn't been completely burned out yet, worrying and trying to tell her that this probably isn't such a good idea, as it does every time. She thinks it's part of her conscience. Not that she's really sure, though-- she hasn't listened to it since high school, and that was a long time ago now. Long enough that the pattern of Find Easy Target --> Get At The Very Least Buzzed --> Use Target --> Evacuate ASAP has become so ingrained in her psyche that she's nearly forgotten that normal people don't operate that way, at least not 100% of the time.

After about half the drink is drained (she powers through with a purpose-- not having to speak to the target), she hops off her barstool and reaches for his hand.

"Come on," she says, and although her face is smiling, something in her demeanor is more impatient than affectionate. And maybe that's as it should be.