fandomtownies | Caritas; Wednesday [02/02].

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Caritas; Wednesday [02/02].

In addition to fighting off her second sangria hangover that week, Summer was trying desperately to figure out some sort of way to get a day booked at that one space spa she never shut up about for a much needed escape for herself and her friends. She knew she could pull it off, she just had to figure out exactly how and who to talk to (and possibly blackmail and/or threaten) to make it happen. So the last thing she also wanted to do was deal with Tino, but, well, she worked here, so that was kind of hard to avoid.

She was very dedicatedly not paying attention to him, which meant that now he was complaining to her about how she was not paying attention to him, when he'd actually managed to pull off a very impressive bar trick and she wasn't even watching to see how good he'd gotten!

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, frowning at her phone before her thumbs went flying to send out a text, "no, I totally saw it, Tino. Very impressive. You're an amazing bartender. Don't you have more 3MD flyers to deécoupage onto the zombies?"

Look. It worked as both advertising and adhesive for any pesky loose body parts! Win/win!

Wednesday Jello Shot Specials!

First One Free with a Karaoke Song!

Red Sangria
White Sangria
Whipped Cream and Sangria
Tomato and HAM-gria

Caritas is open!

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Oh, come on, ~~Eileen~~ Irene! That ham thing was a top notch pun! She was actually stupid proud of that one.

"Not exactly," Summer admitted with a bit of a sigh and a shake of her head, "and I'm glad you didn't, because I could not handle castanets right now. I have just been making a lot of sangria lately, but, hopefully, this is going to be the last of it..."

With that, she sighed again before shifting into bartender-smile mode. "Thinking of trying one?" she asked. "Or can I get you something different tonight?"

It was a great pun. It was just also ham in gelatin, so.

"The white, please," Irene decided with a little answering smile, giving Summer an amused, if puzzled look. "Are you doing some sort of sangria challenge? Or is this a Fandom thing, perhaps?"

Sangria from one's taps or something would be quite nice. Though the fruit would probably clog things up, thinking about it.

"I wish it was just a Fandom thing," Summer admitted with yet another sigh, and then explained, as she snagged one of the white ones and set it down in front of Irene. "Sangria's my go-to when bad shit happens and you just need to get together with a bestie to vent and let it all out and get stupid drunk. And I've had two sangria nights in less than a week, and if I have to have another one soon, I will literally scream."

"Are you all right?" Irene had to ask, offering a sympathetic little wince and trying to be discreet as she gave Summer a more careful once-over. Hungover for sure, yes, though she was definitely handling it better than most, by Irene's estimation -- but she didn't look the worse for wear otherwise, so there was that. "Emotional bad shit rather than physical bad shit, I assume?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Summer assured her, assuming you could count a steady undercurrent of paranoia and a constant twitch the go nuclear at even the slightest hint of the next bad relationship news elsewhere on the island fine. "It's my friends who keep getting shafted. Relationships are dropping like flies around here, right before Valentine's Day, and it is not a cute look. So right now? It's just emotional bad shit, but if this trend keeps up, I make no guarantees that it won't get physical."

"Oof." Irene winced again, though her entrepreneurial, self-serving brain absolutely latched onto 'there are sad, newly-single people on the island now' and what it might mean for her margins. Though that was probably not much of a cute look, either. "Though perhaps it's better to make the break before the holiday, rather than cast a shadow over the date by waiting until afterwards?"

Neither was a great option. But what was great was this sangria shot, which Irene was doing her best to consume without being, you know, totally obscene about it.

It wouldn't be a cute look, no, but Summer had fed into her own capitalist pig bullshit by now that there would be a small kernel of respect in there for it. Like, #girlboss or whatever.

"I mean," said Summer, "I guess. I mean, if I was going to get dumped around this time, I'd at least want to get some sweet last big date out of it or some...."

She trailed off as the stark possibility of what began as a hypothetical revealed itself to be a horrifying potential reality snuggled into all that cozy paranoia in her brain right now.

"....thing," she concluded. "Fuck."

"Valentine's Day," Irene said, with all the wisdom of someone who firmly saw the majority of this holiday as the business it was, "is a terribly fraught time of year for, I think, almost everyone. There's all this pressure, and it's fucking February, to boot."

She finally finished playing with her shot, considered the board, and concluded, "Which is why I'm going to throw a silly, sexy party at the shop for it, I think. Can I try the red one next, please?"

"A silly, sexy party," said Summer, who didn't even need the adjectives to be swayed, as she dutifully fetched a red sangria shot for her, "sounds like a great idea, actually."

For her. She categorically could not see it being something either sangria-frought friends would be super into, but she could use the nice distraction from the probably impending doom of her relationship, or, worse, those of more of her friends.

"I figure it gives everyone the opportunity to peruse and stock up on supplies for the holiday, whether be-coupled or solo," Irene noted, shrugging lightly. "Or at least to drink amongst dildos, and who would turn that down?"

And really, given that this was her second shot and she'd ordered it because she'd liked the first so much, that kind of gave Irene an idea. "I don't suppose you and your delightful jelly skills could be hired for such a thing, Summer?" she asked, thoughtfully tapping her shot with a manicured nail.

Summer could probably think of a few people who would definitely turn that down, but, hey, you know what? Their loss.

And now? Summer was doubly interested, quirking a brow along with a smirk as she leaned on the bar a little.

"I mean," she said, "I'm not sure a party around here can really be a party without my delightful jelly skills, which is to say, yes. Tes, my delightful jelly skills can absolutely be hired for such a thing."

And that was a theme she could really sink her...ahhh, teeth into, as well..

"Outstanding." Irene actually clapped her hands together in delight, because really -- drinking amongst the dildos and probably obscene wiggly shots? What a great party! "There'll be store credit coming your way, as well as whatever your normal fee is, of course. Oh! And I think we may have little molds at the shop, if you don't have something appropriate -- so to speak -- already."

Because yeah, Irene was totally hoping for jello genitalia. Probably more weird than sexy, but whatever. It would be hilarious.

Probably obscene? Oh, Irene. There was no probably with this one!

"I'll email you my rates," Summer confirmed with a nod, so glad to have something good and business-y to focus on now, "and I do have a few that'll work, but I'd definitely like to see what you have to....expand the options. Variety. Spice. Life, all that good stuff."

"Probably ought to do some as hearts or whatever, so as not to scare everyone off," Irene noted, well aware that her own frankness and amusement towards these matters was not shared by the entire island. "But that would be wonderful, Summer, thank you."

Summer waved her hand dismissively, because, hi, yeah, no, you were definitely doing her the favor here, Irene, but also she was so not going to belabor that fact, and then grinned.

"I'm already picturing a good dual-set up," she said, "nice soft and floofy vanilla Hallmark PG-13 bullshit on one side and the more adventurous, kinky, triple-X bullshit that'll make your grandma blush on the other.

"Well," she added, feeling Irene might actually appreciate this detail, "not my grandma. She's part of a polyamorous throuple where my grampa likes to get cucked while watching from a closet dressed up as Superman, but you know...most grandmas."

And that was the normal side of the family!

"The superhero bit is new," Irene admitted, actually lifting her brows. "So your grandparents wouldn't be shocked -- and, if I may, that explains a lot about you, Summer -- but I fully endorse the idea of shocking other people's more traditional grans and grandads."

She finished her shot, adding, "My own grandmother has no idea what I do, for her own benefit, so -- her sort, they're the ones we want to shock, yes."

Also Irene's grandmother thought she was dead, but that was neither here nor there.

Summer gave Irene a look for a brief moment that suggested that, maaan, that didn't even begin to explain about her, but for now, she'll take it.

"I'll see what I can do " she promised, "but....I think the real tricky part for you is managing to get those sorts in through the door in the first place."

"This island is so starved for a party that Dr. Lecter, Eliot, Margo and I all attended an ugly sweater party two months ago," Irene pointed out, with all the gravity that such a pronouncement deserved. "Not that it wasn't wonderful, but I just bet that there are plenty of people who'll turn out for a party regardless of venue or...theme."

"Heeey!" said Summer with a note of protest. "That ugly sweater rager is a goddamn institution!"

That had happened...twice.

"But....you may have a point. I guess we'll have to wait and see."

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