She acknowledges the joke with a smile, the kind that recognizes when someone is trying to be funny but doesn't quite dignify the attempt with a laugh. There's a little lift at the corner of her eyes, though, not quite a smile, and certainly not softness, but a sharp twinkle that seems game as she takes a long pull on her beer.

For a moment, she doesn't press the conversation. Then she raises her chin, indicating the dance floor. "Busy tonight. Must be doing something right around here."