How much money has he spent? John doesn't know. How many bars, in how many cities? John can't remember! What he does know is he's having a good time. Has had good talks. Is running out of time to have more when he stumbles into Ritual -- fresh off the back of conversations with that sweet kid Locke.

"How's, how's New Years Eve!?" He shouts into the bar when he walks in and the bar roars in reply. Yeah. That's the shit.

"Old Fashioned," John says, smiling over the bar top and the tender. The tender smiles back with a knowing, tired expression, and gets him his drink.

'Careful buddy, no one wants to be the one cutting a guy off on New Years,' he warns as he slides the tumbler to John.

"I'll be good as an angel, won't hardly know I'm here," John replies with a wide smile, taking the drink and sauntering his way over to one of the few unoccupied (at least he thinks it is) booths. He more drops himself into the seat than slides in -- it's a miracle he doesn't spill the alcohol in his hand all over himself.