Rose had been telling the bartender how strange her table was. She'd had a particularly bad experience with an overly drunk and overly touchy customer the other night, and she was really hoping Table 15 wasn't going to be a repeat performance.
She returned with their drinks. "Water and iced tea," she said, putting them down in front of the men. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, smiling sweetly. Maybe they would order some food. They weren't here for the booze, and they certainly didn't seem to be enjoying the show. "Do you need sugar, hon?" She put a hand on the crazy man's shoulder, her Southern kitsch overriding her common sense for a moment.