Meg watched him for a moment, her head tipped to the side and she grinned. "I happen to think what I think is of a lot. . .import."
Wait. Meg slid onto the bar stool next to him, sitting her jacket across her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guy from earlier walk out, giving her a pissed off look as he did.
Ah, well.
Meg moved her hands as the bartender set a rum and coke in front of her. She'd been drinking them all night.
"So. . .what do you drink, anyway?"
She hadn't been trying too hard to figure out where she was or how to get back. It wasn't really as if she'd been doing much where she'd been anyway. She was finding it better to just accept where she was at the moment and move on with her life.
At the very least she wasn't alone in this. . .wherever the fuck they were.