[Hank snorts and shoots the guy a short, derisive look.]
Venting's what you do when there's a traffic jam on the way to work and then you spill shitty office coffee all over your pants. This- I'm-
[He hurls another rock at the lake, catches himself thinking, I hope it hits one of those bastards, and looks down, swallowing, holding the next rock from his little pile in his hand and hitting his knee with it a couple times. He takes a breath.]
Fuck, I don't know. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. What about you? You wanna get some fucking 'venting' in?
[At 'venting' Hank nudges the bottle of wine with a foot. There's one kind of venting he's interested in and, right now, anyone and everyone's invited to partake.]
no subject
Venting's what you do when there's a traffic jam on the way to work and then you spill shitty office coffee all over your pants. This- I'm-
[He hurls another rock at the lake, catches himself thinking, I hope it hits one of those bastards, and looks down, swallowing, holding the next rock from his little pile in his hand and hitting his knee with it a couple times. He takes a breath.]
Fuck, I don't know. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. What about you? You wanna get some fucking 'venting' in?
[At 'venting' Hank nudges the bottle of wine with a foot. There's one kind of venting he's interested in and, right now, anyone and everyone's invited to partake.]