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Caritas, Monday

Jake's morning had been spent trying to repair the damage his five year old self had wrought. Which went beyond the mess in his hotel room- oh, no, he'd had to call home and attempt to explain why an excitable little kid had made numerous calls to Mal's cell phone to talk to his daddy.

All in all, he needed a drink. Thank god he worked someplace where that was easy enough to take care of.

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Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin.
Could have been three or four six-packs,
I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in,
My head is like a football, I think I'm gonna die,
Tell me, me oh me oh my,
Wasn't that a party?

Someone took a grapefruit and wore it like a hat,
I saw someone under my kitchen table, talking to my old tom cat,
They were talking about hockey and the cat was talkin' back,
Along about then everything went black,
But wasn't that a party?

After work, Joan went home to fix herself up a little, though she left her hair up. But her neckline, at least, was a little lower when she meandered into Caritas to take a seat on a barstool. "How bad are you at mixing drinks?" she asked, smiling sweetly at the bartender. He was cute, so it wasn't hard.

"Depends on whether the drink's intended for my own consumption or someone else's," Jake admitted. "M'usually too lazy to bother with mixing my own," he added, swirling the glass of rum he held before taking a sip.

"What if it was mine, and I wanted a Manhattan?" she asked, tilting her head. "...is that straight rum?"

"Keen eye, luh," Jake grinned at her. "And if you wanted a Manhattan, I could indeed make ye one. Is that what you're ordering, then?"

"Yes. I'm a bit homesick," she sighed, though she kept smiling as she pulled out her cigarettes to light one. "Strong stomach on you, if you're drinking rum like that. Most men I know stick to whiskey. The spices do 'em in."

Jake took a few moments to mix the cocktail and then set in front of Joan. "I'm from Newfoundland," he said, by way of explanation. "More or less the drink of choice out there."

"A Canadian?" she asked, raising a brow as she took the drink. "They really do have all kinds around here. But that makes sense. You need something to get you through those freezing winters, right?"

"Precisely," Jake nodded. Well, St. John's wasn't nearly as cold as certain other Canadian cities, but it wasn't exactly mild. "As we sit about in our igloos and all that."

"Rubbing your noses together to keep warm, eating your polar bear meat," Joan continued, nodding.

"You've done your homework, I see," Jake said with mock-seriousness.

"I'm a woman of the world," Joan replied with a wide smile. "And I've seen plenty of Christmas specials about the North Pole, so I figure those have to be very accurate depictions of Canada, as well."

"Well, we don't have elves, I'm sad to say," Jake replied. "But otherwise they're spot-on."

"So the reindeer and Santa and how he's spying to make sure I'm a good girl are all definite parts of the Canadian experience, then?" she checked.

"Oh, absolutely," Jake nodded. "I mean, personally, I find his voyeuristic tendencies more than a bit creepy..." said the man who'd made a career out of digging in to people's personal lives.

"He only gets away with it because of all the bribes," Joan said with a conspiratorial wink.

I'm sure it's just my memory playin' tricks on me,
But I think I saw my buddy cuttin' down my neighbour's tree,
Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin.
Could have been three or four six-packs,
I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in,
My head is like a football, I think I'm gonna die,
Tell me, me oh me oh my,
Wasn't that a party?

Old Billy Joe and Tommy, well they went a little far,
They were sitting in my backyard blowing on the siren in somebody's police car.
So you see, your honour,
It was all in fun,
That little bitty track meet down on main street,
Was just to see if the cops could run,
Well, they run us in to see you,
In an alcoholic haze,
I can sure use those thirty days to recover from the party.

WHY IS THERE SNOW?

BECAUSE YOU LIVE IN THE NORTHERNMOST CITY WITH A POPULATION OVER ONE MILLION IN NORTH AMERICA. (Meaning there are over a million batshit insane people in North America!)

Just a wild guess. :D

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Caritas, Monday

Stage!

Bar!

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Lounge!

Back Room!

OOC!

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