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

1/2 partying 1/2 working, OPEN TO ALL.

[paterelohim]

[Chuck signed up to work tonight on purpose- what better way to end his power weekend of being smashed for 56 hours than by working an entire shift while considerably drunk?

So here he is, wearing a jacket and bright green hipster tee underneath, with green hipster shoes and a really really stupid hat.

For half the night he'll be tending bar, but after he gets off the clock, the other half is all about partying and drinking his ass off.]

Re: 1/2 partying 1/2 working, OPEN TO ALL.

[thelightbringer]

[During Chuck's work hours, Lucifer comes around, content and with a very large puppy in tow. Because you can't make Satan and Saint Michael leave their dog home.]

You must be a hit with the ladies.

[paterelohim]

[Pointing at him with a straw.]

Hey, I'm wearing a pussy repellant on purpose. I have a girlfriend.

[thelightbringer]

Smart man. [He's teasing--mocking?--him. But he hoists the puppy up so it can see Chuck, and Frasier's tail begins to wag dangerously fast.]

You know, my being here is treason against my usual bartender. Make it worth my while.

[paterelohim]

[Chuck is already feeling the buzz, so he gets daring.]

Why not try "please"?

[thelightbringer]

Are you trying to teach me manners? This is a bar. I think the fact I'm not starting a brawl makes me a 'gentleman'.

[Every time Chuck looks their way the puppy is so excited to see grandpa Chuck, ohmygod, come pet me, please]

[paterelohim]

[Okay, okay, he gives- time to reach over and pet the goddamn puppy omg.]

House rules, bro.

/too tired to nitpick but does it anyway

[thelightbringer]

All right. Please make it worth the scowling and possible banning Sam Merlotte would give us if he knew I was here supporting the enemy.

[Somehow, that's better than just straight up asking for a drink. This is your son's logic at work.

Frasier wriggles under Chuck's hand, not licking him (he only licks Michael) but in heaven just by getting attention.]

/hopefully sense-making omg

[paterelohim]

Whatever, man. A bar and a cabaret club aren't really overlapping their audiences that much.

[Still petting the puppeh omg, and not making a single move to make that drink.]

[thelightbringer]

Except us.

[Frasier squirms up onto the counter, tail wagging so hard it could take off someone's head. Watch out, Chuck, his monster paws are going to be up on your shoulders. He has a bad habit already: he enjoys being held.]

You know, the only way to celebrate Saint Patrick and his contribution to the world is with a shot. We can do it with a gun if we find an Irishman, or whatever you have behind the bar. Your choice.