Five drinks in and Megan's cheeks were flushed pink. She had always been a rather giggly girl, but with alcohol in her, Megan tended to find everything giggle-worthy, which was due mostly to the fact that almost everything somehow translated to something sexually suggestive.
As the barmaid and her rather... ample chest- which, Megan thought to herself, had to have been pushed up by some sort of charm, as there was certainly no way breasts could look like that without help- came into view, Megan's nose scrunched up. She would never be able to make men ogle at her chest, that was for certain, and she didn't appreciate the barmaid making her look bad. Sheesh. "Well," she gestured with a perhaps too large grin to George, making a point not to look at Spencer. "He's my chaperone for the evening."