No. Just ask for the information.

Something doesn't smell right. You surreptitiously place the drink on the ground when he's not looking, hiding it from his side of the bar.

Afterwards, you call his attention over with a wave. When he sidles over with a puzzled expression, you lean in close, your face inches from his, and whisper.

"I need to get out of the Dead Zone."

A moment passes before he openly laughs in your face, and reaches under the counter for something out of sight.

"You don't ask for much, do you girl?"

Pulling an unlabelled bottle up to the counter, he takes a swig directly from the bottle before pouring a measure into the glass besides you. You suppress an involuntary shudder at the level of hygiene displayed by that maneuver; but know that one's definitely safe, unless he just **** himself.

"Well. Came to the right person. Gonna cost ya though. What've ya got?"

Picking the new drink up, you consider your options.