Galen smiles a bit, still tapping at the guitar head. How Kenzi can hold that much booze, he'll never know -- he can barely stand the fucking taste, himself. But he nods -- and his smile widens at the mention of the Russian. He doesn't really want to talk about what happend before that, either. Not right this second, at least.

"Ehhh, I have a good teacher. Ida Straum, man." Another grin, hoping she remembers. "What'd you just call me?"