"Leavin' so soon, brother? I thought we were celebratin'." Shane grins, leant against the bar counter, a beer in one hand as he watches Rick clear their tabs. The sheriff chuckles, shaking his head.

"I gotta, man. Lori's gonna have my ass if I don't tuck Carl in at least once a week." Rick answers, putting on his jacket and his hat. He laughs and makes a rude hand gesture when Shane makes a whip sound effect.

"Right. Have a g'night, man. See ya Monday." Shane nods, continuing to nurse his beer. The bell of the door rings as his best friend leaves, but also for trouble to enter.

Short block heels on the sticky floor, while everyone's got their cowboy boots on. Doesn't attract any drunk gazes towards her as she briskly walks to the counter and orders a Paloma; lips curling in a pout as the bartender says they've only got beer, and orders that.

Clearly from out of town. Out of state. From one of the big cities with their parties and nightlife. Piquing his interest with a casual bright smile when she catches him staring at her.

"Allow me." he starts, moving to stand next to you, handing a fiver to the barkeep as he hands you your beer.

"You from Manhattan?" he asks with a charming grin, dropping a paper umbrella into your glass, just to be playful.

".. well yes, actually. How'd you—?" you ask, surprised, and he just waves a hand.

" 'Cause you ain't a southern belle, that's for sure. Y'all ladies from the city.. y'all are purty. In a different way."