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hurley,
xaldin

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The Hurley that strolls into the bar today is actually quite happy.

Making a golf course was way too much fun. And it got everyone to relax.

So when he sits at the bar and orders himself a milkshake and a cheeseburger with fries, he's on top of the world.

[ooc: Open all day, with caveats of possible work-related slowtime possible]

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"Esfir," Hurley repeats. "I'm Hurley."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," he says. "So... how's the iron curtain?"

"Just fine," she says, with all the confidence of one who has beaten the Americans around the Moon herself.

Because, she did.

"Cool," Hurley says. "I... okay, I don't really know much about the Soviet Union, sorry."

"It happens."

Beat.

"Who got to the Moon first, in your world?"

"Ummm, us," Hurley says.

That gets a sigh.

"Sorry?" Hurley says.

"My world...other way around."

"Oh, wow," Hurley says. "Like, when?"

"I orbitted the Moon in 1965. Moonlanding 1967."

"Wow, that's... that's cool," Hurley says. "The moon? Dude."

She grins at him.

"The Moon."

"Wow," Hurley says. "Can I like... buy you a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no. Just lemonade, though."

"Hey, I'm just having a milkshake," he says. "Bar, give the lady what she wants, my tab."

"True."

And lo! Did the lemonade appear, and the Russian astronaut was happy.

"I never really thought I'd make it to the moon or nothing," Hurley says. "Kinda... not built to be an astronaut."

"Most of us are...very short, it's true. But, we are pilots first."

"Oh, it's not height that's my problem," Hurley says.

"I was being, what's the word...diplomatic."

Beat.

"Also honest."

"Thanks," Hurley says. "I appreciate it."

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