Megan laughs again, startled -- she might be having the worst month known to man, but she does like attention, especially positive attention. And she's tipsy by now, yes, so that helps. "Yeah, I guess! Most people go for fairy, though." She leans forward to flag down the bartender and get another shot and a beer -- she doesn't need a chaser, she just wants something to sip when her tequila's gone. She downs the shot before she turns back to look at him, her dark irises, from this close, faintly visible from in the black; sometimes it's hard to tell where she's looking unless she's right up against someone. "Are you here all alone?"