In a parallel universe, where Joanie was not drunk, she might have been able to realize that this was her own damn fault. However, at the moment, she was impaired enough to be shocked by this new development and uninhibited enough to respond the way she damn well wanted to.
Spitting out a bit of her drink onto his front in shock at the comment about her toes, Joanie wheeled around to face him, extending her pointer finger and jabbing him in the chest. "Ah'm warning you," she hissed, face red both from rage and the alcohol she'd consumed. "Ah'm about five seconds from knocking you clear on your pasty, English ass." She stood off her stool, holding her balance well as she leaned towards him, still prodding him threateningly. "Take yer goddamned break before Ah break your neck."
The bartender shouted something that she didn't hear, and she turned to glare at him before picking up her beer and throwing back a long swig. Yes, that would help.