Caritas, Thursday evening

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

The ultra-cool, ultra-hep, ultra-smoky jazz club Caritas was open for business. The bartender was smoking ganja (and she'd be happy to sell you some) and the zombies were looking particularly George Romero tonight.

Come on in. But be aware: reefer madness is a real risk.

[ooc: ridiculously over-the-top hepcat marijuana user behavior also a risk.]

Comments

The Band

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Who are playing slower than usual. Looking more dead than usual.

Re: The Band

[lovemykilt]

Dead and slow, sure, but you didn't actually need a steady beat to when it came time to do an interpretive dance.

The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Don't mind the smell. That cigarette is medicinal.

Re: The Bar

[hoorayimrich.livejournal.com]

Tony was on a mission to find out where the communist sympathizers were in this supposedly wholesome little town of Fandom. Wholesome meant nothing when you'd peeled back the can top and seen the seedy underbelly just waiting for you.

Like a can of Spam or any other similar product.

Only more disgusting.

"A martini," he said, eyeing the bartender warily.

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Hello, Square-With-Four-Corners. Kenzi blew smoke in his face.

"What kind of martini, Daddy-O?" she asked, reaching for the shaker. "James Bond, or investment-broker-sell-out?"

She's Canadian. So she's half-way to communism without trying.

Re: The Bar

[hoorayimrich.livejournal.com]

Investment-broker-sell-out, totally.

"Just get me a martini and make it snappy," Tony replied.

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Snap! Snap! Kenzi snapped her fingers.

The zombies snapped with her, albeit behind the beat.

"Cool your steam, teen dream." Kenzi shook the martin shaker like maracas. A boom-shika! A boom-shika!

Then decanted it into a shiny glass, sticking an olive in it with one hand, while smoking her joint with the other. "You need to relax, man."

Re: The Bar

[hoorayimrich.livejournal.com]

"You need to lay off the stuff, dolly." Only alcohol was an appropriate drug if you asked Tony.

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"You're not my old man," Kenzi sneered, taking another inhale. "I may work for the bar, but I don't work for you. I work for the public. Purveying substances." Go Socialist Canada!

Re: The Bar

[hoorayimrich.livejournal.com]

"That's socialist talk! You're not red, are you?" ANSWER CAREFULLY.

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"I have a green card, you wet rag." Kenzi draped herself on the bar and watched the smoke drift in lazy noir circles around her head. And then she said in Russian, "//You will never understand our goals, Capitalist Pig!//"

Re: The Bar

[hoorayimrich.livejournal.com]

He didn't actually know what she said or if it was actually Russian, but it certainly didn't sound American, so...

"Cool your heels, comrade."

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"I ain't your comrade, corporate tool." Kenzi smirked again. She was good at it. "This is the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. Someday, when the revolution comes, you'll be up against the wall. Thinking of me!" Inhale. Buzzzzzzzz. "...what were we talking about?"

Re: The Bar

[lovemykilt]

Open mic at the cafe had been a wash -- most of his customers just looked at him like he was spouting nonsense! -- so Boaz packed up shop early to head out and hit the town.

"Good to know they aren't all red onions in this town," he said, swinging up onto the bar. "Hey honey, tell me you can hook a hipster up."

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Outta sight, man," Kenzi said, smirking happily. And a little hazily. "Nice to see someone who isn't a nosebleed in this town." Another toke on the joint, and then Kenzi coughed, rummaging behind the bar. "Mexican do you?"

Re: The Bar

[lovemykilt]

"Sounds boss, baby. How'd a crazy chick like you manage to land juiceman in a gin mill in Squaresville, huh?"

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Oh, that is a long, sad story man." Kenzi pulled out a baggie of Mary Jane and some filter papers, then poured Boaz a complimentary booze. Because she was hep like that. "I tell mine, you tell yours. How's an aces cool head like you wind up in this capitalist-suburban nightmare?"

Re: The Bar

[lovemykilt]

Boaz shook his head. "I'm jungled up down the street," he said. "Inherited a cafe. Keep tryin' to make it a scene, but man, I get some cubes up in there. Try to start a conversation and not a damn one of them knows their groceries, you dig?"

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"I dig." Kenzi started rolling another joint, and got a paper cut on her tongue. "Owth!... I keep getting the dipsticks and drags, drowning their sad little sorrows. I broke out, man. They're not taking me back. I'm freeeeeeeee." And stoooooned!

Re: The Bar

[lovemykilt]

"Gonna blow this town?" Boaz guessed. "I can feel it. Place is straight off the cob, nothing to do but get Dixie fried and throw some freeverse into the wind."

Re: The Bar

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

"Right on, right on." Kenzi nodded sapiently. And a little dizzily. "Here, man, I don't wanna Bogart all this." She handed over another hand-rolled. "The zombies won't mind. They're cool."

Re: The Bar

[lovemykilt]

"They're definitely doing their best to swing." They weren't really there yet, but they were clearly trying. Boaz took the joint and took a long hit, holding it in as he passed it back, then letting out a cinematically perfect smoke ring before blowing the rest of it through the dead center.

T minus five seconds before this turned him into a crazy reefer head.

The Lounge

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

For all you people looking to lie about like you're in a Calvin Klein commercial.

The TV Room

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

If you're into something that middle-class.

OOC

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

Kenzi is pretty much a PSA for 1950's drug use at the moment. So any arrests, over-reactions, or Dramatic Moments are completely allowed.