Erin takes a seat at the bar and looks around her. There isn't a soul she recognises. She shrugs and smiles a little tersely at the bartender, drumming well-manicured but short red nails on the lacquered wood. She looks around and takes in the place. It really hasn't changed much, with the mirrored wall behind the bar holding as much alcohol as ever and the battered-looking clock over by the television - on mute, as usual - in the corner. She doesn't see anyone she recognises, though. Not that they would recognise her in anything but jeans and a t-shirt.<br/><br/>Even the bartender is new. She sighs as she waits for him to finish whatever it is he's doing across the bar and head over, reaching into her purse for her wallet. She crosses her legs on the stool and smiles at the guy. Kinda cute, in a bit of a scruffy way.