First, we learn that his favorite beverage is the "Tequila Slam," which is apparently a real thing. That would be "well tequila" (the kind that only occasionally comes in a glass bottle),
and seltzer water
covered with a paper napkin and slammed against the bar––a maneuver that is perhaps intended to showcase the performative "badass fizz" aspect but as a result spills nearly half the drink; it is satisfying perhaps to Inspector Tequila in the moment, but something of an inconvenience for a neat-freak bartender.
Amazingly, this is a fitting analogy for Inspector Tequila's fearlessly stylish-yet-sloppy methods of policework. (Though it is less elegant than the "Travis Bickle calmly stares at his own alka-seltzer while quietly boiling on the inside" scene in TAXI DRIVER, this is from the director who first brought us JCVD punching a snake, so let's cut him some slack.)
Anyway, Inspector Tequila knocks back the drink,
where he proceeds to play a mean jazz clarinet. John Woo seems to say, "Inspector Tequila is a rough-and-tumble individual, but he has a soft side––as velvety smooth as a clarinet playing 'Sweet Georgia Brown' at an Elks Lodge in Missoula, Montana for a crowd of slow-dancing geriatrics."
Let's move ahead three minutes in time. See those two guys, Inspector Tequila?
The ones with the bird cages?
If you, as an audience member, at first glance, don't make the assessment that yes, those bird cages are probably filled with guns, then you, my friend, are watching the wrong movie.
Inspector Tequila is an astute observer of the human animal, unlike yourself.
All of this is essentially a set-up for over two hours of two-fisted acrobatic gunplay and incredible non-union stuntwork,
all in Woo's distinctive "Peckinpah-meets-Shaw-Brothers-meets-screwy-Jean-Pierre-Melville" style, which went on to birth THE MATRIX, Robert Rodriguez, and any number of contemporary action films and directors.