Following those nine hours of technical rehearsal the men repaired to the nearby Lambs Club, a glossy, noisy night spot, and quickly consumed prodigious amounts of ale, rye and red wine and four plates of blistered shishito peppers. They cajoled a photographer into joining their banquette, insisted he have another cocktail and then mocked his order. Mr. Shannon — who occasionally donned sunglasses indoors, at night — called it “what my grandma would drink.”
After singing a little song about his own order of hot mixed nuts, he happily swigged the rioja Mr. Wright had ordered for him.
“That’s why me and Craig continue to work together,” Mr. Shannon began.
“Excellent wine pairings,” Mr. Wright finished.
Their eclectic conversation jumped from Shakespeare to Kerouac, Sir Mix-A-Lot to Thornton Wilder, Sigur Ros to Robert Frost, with pauses only for further whiskey orders.