Daphne stands in the whirl of a Merlotte's gone quietly exciting; there's a bit more movement, a bit more noise, than usual. She stares at them, wondering which table the food is for, and Maryann calls her over, smiling cruelly. "Miss! Miss? I think you're looking for me." We all are, sometimes. "I'd have stood there all night if you hadn't noticed me!" She asks Maryann, ironically, how she could tell Daphne's new, and Maryann gives her the full treatment: "Because you care about doing a good job. Now you just keep on caring, and one day you'll be the best at what you do. That's my advice." Wonderful. Pitch perfect. Daphne falls in love with her a bit and leaves; Maryann grins privately, deliciously, and bites into an onion ring, wriggling in her chair with the music.

Sam notes the sheer amount of beer at Andy's table, and counsels moderation, but eventually Andy admits that whatever usual level of pathetic he's laboring under, the actuality is bad enough that his nine years of sobriety are worth giving up. Sam sits down, warily and distractedly concerned, the way people always are with Andy: "Lots of people in this town don't need to see you this way." Sam's such a good boy. Andy spent the entire last season up his ass for no reason, but now that it's down to it he's telling Andy what a symbol of goodness and justice he is. How people deserve to see that.

"The people in this town don't see me. Not for what I really am." Sam tells him another option would be to suck it up and respect himself first by not being such a HUGE BABY, but I'm so sure Andy's hearing that. "Bud took me off a case, Sam. I don't know about you, but in my book that's a capital D-motion." Sam gets it, and changes his tune, apologizing; Andy promises he'll pull it together tomorrow, get back on the right path, but tonight he needs to lose it. Tonight, of all nights, with Maryann on table four, how could he not? Sam gets it, and nods, looking around at the rising chaos, anxious to give something back for Andy's honesty. "One of the things I set out to do here when I opened up here was have a place where you could come, get a drink, nobody would bother you to dance."

Andy agrees vociferously, and tenders up another story. It's kinda funny, I guess, but mostly interesting because it obviously means something huge to Andy but not to Sam, or us. "I hate to dance. This one time I was in a club in Shreveport, and I actually had a woman tell me I looked like a epileptic on meth." Sam is sad for him, and a bit touched by the way this story is related. Also weirded out. "Never again, Sam. Never again." He takes a pull off his beer and Sam heads back, into the dancing, taking away Andy's empties. I love much about this show, you might have noticed, but I really do love the way everybody remembers to love Andy. He's just the worst, and they give as good as they get, but when it's time to take care of Andy Bellefleur, no matter how bad he'll make you pay for it later, they all do it. He's used so well, because he never gets tamed no matter how many times it plays out. He's the Rygel, the Cordelia/Spike/Anya: That element without which we'd all be better off, and which therefore must be protected at all costs.