It's St. Paddy's day! Everyone's Irish tonight.

[uberboned]

Who: Staff and patrons of The Purgatory. (SO TOTALLY OPEN)
When: March 17th
Where: The Purgatory.
Summary: So maybe St. Patrick's Day has nothing to do with Gabriel or the Purgatory- that's no reason not to have a huge shindig.
Warnings: Drinking and excessive partying.

[The Purgatory has been decorated to resemble a large Irish pub, all metal and glitz replaced by elegantly carved wood with green-glass mirrors and lamps and cozy green drapes and velvet chairs and faux-emeralds giving it the impression that the Emerald City may well have thrown up on an Irish Pub. Drinks tailored for the holiday are all half-off and the cover charge has been removed for anyone who remembers to wear green inside- if you don't, then you'll have to pay and the wait staff are under orders to pinch you all night long. That's what you get for not participating, moron.

The music, thankfully, is just catchy Europop and nothing with fiddles or folk tunes, so the dance floor is as active as ever, but there's nothing on stage tonight, just the general atmosphere of a bunch of people with an awesome and socially acceptable excuse to get drunk.... Getting drunk.

YEEEEAH.]

Comments

[classdismissed]

[He jolts.]

Hey!

[But the look on his face says that he doesn't mind it from her at all. The other waiters would be another story.]

Careful there, Milton, I don't wanna bruise.

[socius]

[And Anna just grins, already perusing the list of drinks from the menu in the back- even if she had them all memorized by now, anyway.]

You're such a delicate little flower. [The other waiters probably don't have enough balls to pinch the Jumper- but hey, you never know. There's always Jinx. Or Gabriel. Either of them might pinch him. Through a wall or something. Who knew anymore.]

[classdismissed]

I am. You're injuring not only my body, but my virtue.

[He snickers and God does it feel good to be doing this. The smile is coming a lot easier than it normally does. He needs this night out.

Griffin looks over the menu with Anna.]

I can head up to the bar. What do you want?

[socius]

[He'll just get a gentle pat to the arse- right where she'd pinched it, for his troubles. A night out is exactly what they need. And what better way to do it than for a holiday? The whole Port getting in the spirit? Hard to get bummed out during something like that.]

Mm... Baileys Frozen Russian? [Sickeningly sweet? Hell yes.]

[classdismissed]

[He glances back at her hand, then at her.]

Might need a bit more reassuring.

[Griffin looks to see what her choice had been and then nods approvingly. He also bears the burden of a sweet tooth.]

Good choice. I'll be right back then.

[socius]

[All his taunt gets is a grin. Maybe later, pesky brit. But she nos him off, waiting and watching while he gets what they want- she'll get the next round, so it's not so bad making him be all gentlemanly and such this time.]

[classdismissed]

[She gets treated to not one, but two waitresses pinching Griffin before he even makes it to the bar. He scowls at both of them and both of them walk away giggling rather than being mollified. He comes back with Anna's drink and his Irish Ale and he's grumbling.]

It's a stupid rule.

[socius]

[And what is Anna doing? Watching very, very amusedly as he gets nipped and pinched two and from the bar. Amused angel is very amused.]

Should've worn something green. [It's tempting to whip something up, but that would be a bit ... yeah. However! She can do this:]

Wanna borrow this? [Why yes, she did just pull a shamrock mardi gras-style necklace out of her pocket of nothing.]

[classdismissed]

Yeah, yeah.

[He eagerly takes the necklace from her, grateful for something green. He drapes it over his head with one hand, letting it fall down to his neck.]

Look at you, prepared. Should've guessed you're a big fan of this holiday. [gringringrin]

[socius]

I am ginger. Saint Patrick was Scottish, you know. Not sure why the Irish took a Scotsman for their biggest international holiday. [Well, actually she did, somewhere in her mind.]

You'd rather get pinched all night? I can take it back if you want.

[classdismissed]

No, it's mine. [He clutches it.] Can't take it back now.

And maybe they were so drunk that they couldn't tell the difference. [Ironic, coming from the O'Conner.]

[socius]

[But she's even grabbing for it!]

Yeah, the staff are totally hammered. [Dat look.] Might have to be to want to pinch you. [CHEAP SHOT? No way.]

[classdismissed]

[He strains his neck away, trying to wriggle out of her reach.]

I didn't hear you complaining.