See--that's what Chuck was talking about, everyone fucking loves Raleigh, anyone would help him if he asked, lend him money or help him figure out how to do this without emptying his own account.

He's stamping his feet to keep the feeling in his toes when he sees the commotion--the flurry of activity, hugs and well wishes, and doesn't realize it's Raleigh until the man himself makes his escape from the crowd.

He takes a long pull of his wine and looks for a place to go hide. Maybe behind that plastic reindeer.