Sure. Whatever guts your pig! I bet it'd be pretty easy to pick out the ones who'd dare ya to shed your skirt just by looking, the way you're doing right now.

[Instead of hovering around, Henry slides into one of the stools and drops his elbows on the countertop, leaning forward onto his palms. Then he points to a young woman who seems far more alien than human, with slick skin, sallow eyes, and a confident grin.]

Oh. She dared me to fork over my shirt earlier, if that helps any.

[Being that he still has his shirt, that's clearly a dare she didn't win.]