Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

Sonya had been a bartender at the Wagon Wheel longer than she cared to think. She slung whiskey and beer to the local cowhands and occasional drifter. Time had long pasted the mining town of Bisbee and now it was Sonya, the cowhands, and the Table. Sonya started calling them that shortly after they setup their continuous poker game in the corner of the saloon.
She paid them no mind as they generally stayed to themselves, drinking and playing cards day and night. The players would change, almost like shift work, two or three would join as two or three would wander off, always the same eight or nine, always leaving a chair open for any drifter that might want a game.
Such was the case on this night. As the weekly stagecoach was pulling out of town in came a stranger, dressed much nicer than the locals. As he approached Sonya at the bar the boys at the Table were getting his attention. Sonya watched, as she had done a dozen times before. As the stranger was about to order Sonya whispered, "You're walking into a trap". The stranger smiled, grabbed his drink, and before heading to the Table, smiled and said, "I know".