Caritas, Saturday

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

Troubled, tragically-unmarried April was apparently a bartender, but only as a means of passing the time, since she had no husband and therefore no reason to ever cook or clean. She had enough family money to get by without a job, but she didn't feel right in her empty apartment all by her lonesome. So she needed a distraction, and Caritas was it.

Tonight, she was going to spend her shift mournfully looking through a magazine full of pictures of pearls she might never have a reason to wear. So sad.

[[up early, and there shall be looots of SP from me today, yus. HANUKKAH FESTIVITIES TONIGHT YAY.]]

The Abandoned Warehouse District, Saturday Afternoon

[harpy-daughter.livejournal.com]

It was one thing to do poetry readings at the Perk, where the coffee flowed freely and they could make the squares uncomfortable, but it was still part of the mainstream.

No, the cats who REALLY wanted to rebel had their own digs, one of the many abandoned warehouses down on the wrong side of the street tracks, which they had furnished with discarded couches and rugs, creating a riot of color and noise whenever they came crashing in.

And today, they were crashing about, man. Cigarettes - and other smokeables - were being passed around, someone had put together a makeshift stage with a sheet and a stool, and the alcohol was flowing.

The beatniks were in the house, friend. And so long as you were hip, you were welcome.

[OOC: Open post, for those looking for something hip to do pre-dance]

Sock Hop, Town Hall [Saturday night, December 8, 2012]

[makemyownway.livejournal.com]

It's sock hop time, cats and kittens! Get out your poodles skirts and saddle shoes, your hair grease and leather jackets (or your camera phones and evil grins if you were still in living color) and get ready to jitterbug, mambo, and hand jive!

Town hall has been liberally be-streamered and there were all of the finest 1950s food (hand-prepared by those who felt compelled to do that this week): pigs in blankets, three dozen casseroles full of Campbell's soup, and an extremely elaborate make-you-own sundae bar. The baristas from the Perk have been brought over to serve up shakes, malteds, and egg creams, but please don't eat too much before you dance: you'll upset your tummy!

The tunes were cranked up--Paul Anka and Elvis were prominent, but Perry Como came on every time Anakin talked to the deejay--and it was Saturday night! Grab your best girl or guy and get ready to party!

The Devil's Nest, Saturday, December 8

[nookiepowered]

Bartender and dorm mother was a slightly odd combination; even Bo -- commonly known around either location as Our Miss Jones -- could admit that. Still, who better to make sure her students didn't get served anything stronger than a root beer float?

Plus somebody had to keep an eye out for those terrible reefer pushers; if any of her kids got lured into a life of crime, degradation, and hallucinatory strippers, she'd just die.

No one said Our Miss Jones was a very good dorm mom.

She was, however, very good at pouring root beer floats.

[OOC: Set while the 5th Floor Common Room TV is yet among the living, of course.]