C'mon, boyscout. Pick up the phone. Eirene stands at the back of the one that he just walked into, listening to the sappy answering message they made to see how many people would hang up after hearing it, "Hey, Clark. It's me. I'm not sure when I'll be home, but as soon as I figure out where I am, I'll head in that direction. I'm sorry for running out because we should've talked instead. Anyway, I love you. See you in a few hours."

Well, even if he is ignoring the phone, at least she's kind of let him know where she is, and can stop feeling guilty about just taking off. She takes a seat at the bar counter a minute later and orders an iced tea from the 'tender. Five minutes after that, Eirene is trying to figure out how to tell a very large biker that she really doesn't want to dance with anyone and not insult him in the process.

Which is really hard when one's wrist is being held immobile, and one's iced tea is already decorating the front of said biker.