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Week Twenty: Friday
Who: Alice, and Vivian
Where: The Pit
When: Night, duh.
What: It's about damn time these two hung out.
It was safe to say that Vivian was a brat. That was even more evident to herself, now that she had been exposed to high quality, tailored clothing. She'd managed to pop over to Waters Couture and Chantal, and been fitted for the clothing she was set to where for the photo shoot the following day. The experience had been a bit odd. Sort of like being a complete strangers barbie doll. They dressed you up, then pinned, and synched every thing they put on you. She had to admit though, the clothing had fit her far better than any others she'd ever worn before. Which was amazing, because like every other woman that existed, her body wasn't perfect matched to clothing bought in a store. It had spoiled her though. She was now looking for some way to make enough money, so that all the clothing that followed could be tailored as well. Investments maybe?
"Pleeeaaassseee?" She purred against his ear. "I'll bring you your drinks personally the rest of the night. Or... I can get you the number of the blond dancer you've been drooling over. How about that?" Her arms hung lose around the neck of the dj, the front of her body pressed to his back, as she pleaded for him to play a bit of Type O Negative for her. She was going to be there till late in the am, so why shouldn't she get to make a few request? "Yes? Oh, thank you! You're an absolute peach, lovey. I'll have the number for you before the end of the night, I promise." Smiling brightly, she planted a kiss to the side of his face, then released him. She hadn't even made it back to the bar when the music she'd been aching for began playing. With one hand holding her bowler hat down on her head, she danced her way threw the throbbing crowd on the floor. Friday really was one of the best nights. Everyone eager to get out, and release that pent up energy from the week. It was amazing. It didn't hurt that she'd dressed to kill that night either.
With her bright red lips, and thick black lashes, she appeared to look like something out of A Clockwork Orange. Which wasn't a bad thing in her opinion. The book had been fascinating, and the movie was a Kubrick classic. Though, the Shinning was still her all time favorite of his. Who didn't want to resemble a very creepy, yet some what hot psychopath? Then again, she had been called strange on more than one occasion in her life. "I'm coming! Don't you see me heading that way?" Less experienced bartenders didn't seem to care for others wandering off for a moment. Easily overwhelmed, poor things.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist. That's tequila... You're making a Vesper, right? You need Vodka, not Tequila, love." Sighing, she butted the girl out of the way, taking over the preparation of the drink for the awaiting customer. "Don't leave, watch. You're learning for a reason, right?" She couldn't be too hard on the trainee. She had been one once, and if it hadn't been the for the patience of her fellow employees both at the Dead Horse, and here, she wouldn't have become the kickass bartender she was. "Now you need gin." Plucking another bottle from beneath the bar, she added the last chemical to the cocktail. "There you are." When the customer passed over the pay, she turned to the trainee, "He's tipped you, congratulations." Grinning, she quickly made her way down the bar, picking up her momentarily forgotten section of bar.
Where: The Pit
When: Night, duh.
What: It's about damn time these two hung out.
It was safe to say that Vivian was a brat. That was even more evident to herself, now that she had been exposed to high quality, tailored clothing. She'd managed to pop over to Waters Couture and Chantal, and been fitted for the clothing she was set to where for the photo shoot the following day. The experience had been a bit odd. Sort of like being a complete strangers barbie doll. They dressed you up, then pinned, and synched every thing they put on you. She had to admit though, the clothing had fit her far better than any others she'd ever worn before. Which was amazing, because like every other woman that existed, her body wasn't perfect matched to clothing bought in a store. It had spoiled her though. She was now looking for some way to make enough money, so that all the clothing that followed could be tailored as well. Investments maybe?
"Pleeeaaassseee?" She purred against his ear. "I'll bring you your drinks personally the rest of the night. Or... I can get you the number of the blond dancer you've been drooling over. How about that?" Her arms hung lose around the neck of the dj, the front of her body pressed to his back, as she pleaded for him to play a bit of Type O Negative for her. She was going to be there till late in the am, so why shouldn't she get to make a few request? "Yes? Oh, thank you! You're an absolute peach, lovey. I'll have the number for you before the end of the night, I promise." Smiling brightly, she planted a kiss to the side of his face, then released him. She hadn't even made it back to the bar when the music she'd been aching for began playing. With one hand holding her bowler hat down on her head, she danced her way threw the throbbing crowd on the floor. Friday really was one of the best nights. Everyone eager to get out, and release that pent up energy from the week. It was amazing. It didn't hurt that she'd dressed to kill that night either.
With her bright red lips, and thick black lashes, she appeared to look like something out of A Clockwork Orange. Which wasn't a bad thing in her opinion. The book had been fascinating, and the movie was a Kubrick classic. Though, the Shinning was still her all time favorite of his. Who didn't want to resemble a very creepy, yet some what hot psychopath? Then again, she had been called strange on more than one occasion in her life. "I'm coming! Don't you see me heading that way?" Less experienced bartenders didn't seem to care for others wandering off for a moment. Easily overwhelmed, poor things.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist. That's tequila... You're making a Vesper, right? You need Vodka, not Tequila, love." Sighing, she butted the girl out of the way, taking over the preparation of the drink for the awaiting customer. "Don't leave, watch. You're learning for a reason, right?" She couldn't be too hard on the trainee. She had been one once, and if it hadn't been the for the patience of her fellow employees both at the Dead Horse, and here, she wouldn't have become the kickass bartender she was. "Now you need gin." Plucking another bottle from beneath the bar, she added the last chemical to the cocktail. "There you are." When the customer passed over the pay, she turned to the trainee, "He's tipped you, congratulations." Grinning, she quickly made her way down the bar, picking up her momentarily forgotten section of bar.