Charlie gave an abrupt laugh, her hand moving out from it's hidey-hole and rubbing up and down the length of her arm. This whole scene certainly felt strange, but at the same time, she didn't lament or wish to be rid of it at all. The random touch that came from Cat felt entirely natural, and Charlie made no move to put more distance between herself and the woman.
"Don't think I'd be one tah ask 'bout that, or help with it, not really," she responded, knowing full well that the 'California lifestyle' had done nothing to change her eating or drinking habits. Charlie didn't much care for either the plasticism of the Barbie-like women, nor the ones who were so gung-ho about not eating animals; it wasn't so much that Cat smoked, but the thought that she didn't neatly fit into either of these boxes either that made Charlie like her more. They were both strangers to this state, to the ideals here.
"And it'd be one'a the few times somebody tol' me I was helpin'," she continued, deprecating herself playfully in an act of bonding. The move to California had been to entirely uproot herself and...well, from there, Charlie hadn't really thought about it, but maybe she was finding more than she could have ever expected to. Though her standards were rarely high to begin with.