She'd only been one shot of vodka in when she spotted the newcomer. She hadn't paid him much attention at first, ordering herself another drink was more of a priority at the moment. Once she'd had a scotch in hand, she felt more inclined to check out the crowd once again. It didn't take very long for her eyes to move back to the man, and when she finally got a good luck at him, her temper flared.
When Sam was truly pissed off, she was a lot less happy-go-lucky and a lot more dangerously impulsive. Mix in alcohol, and things rarely ended well. Thank goodness she hadn't had much to drink yet. Still, she pushed off of the bar and storms over to where he sat, shoving him forcefully from behind. "What kind of fucking sick joke is this?"