Who: Alicia & Open [Inactive] What: TGIF! Allie doesn't have to work this Friday, so she's decided to treat herself to a night out on the town. When: October 15th | 9:30 P.M. Where: The Wizarding Nightlife | London, England Warnings: PG-13 Status:Incomplete | Finished
The week felt as if it had lasted a lifetime, so by the time Friday came around Alicia was ready. She was off this Friday and thus able to sleep in, though truth be told she couldn't manage to do so past eight o'clock. That was still a lot better than in the recent past! Having managed to sort out a bit of housework just in the nick of time for her housemates to return from holiday, Allie decided a night on the town was long overdue. She spread the word to several of her mates, though left it open so none felt obligated. Contrary to the manner of a typical clubber, the young woman was far too confident going it alone if no one met up with her at the Wizarding Nightlife. Alicia could almost always find a handful of individuals entertaining enough to help her pass the time, and after a few drinks, all would feel right as rain.
A 'few drinks,' however, had passed roughly three hours ago. Despite the fact Alicia could handle her alcohol like a pro, she was starting to get into that familiar stupor. By no means was she a lush, but she certainly was far from prude where her drinks were concerned!
Alicia found herself back up at the bar, claiming a seat as she talked in a relatively animated manner to the woman down the bar serving the drinks up. "And then he asked which one was mine, and I knew he had to be out of his sodding mind! If one of those girls were mine, I would have had her at the age of... damn near eleven or so?" Raising her glass to the amused bartender, Allie took another drink before something caught the corner of her eye. Someone had managed to leave their wallet unattended two seats down from her. Of course that only caused the noble, Gryffindor-like qualities within to surface all the more. Regardless of her level of intoxication, there was no escaping that side of her.
"Oi, 'scuse me. You there," she called after the patron, raising the wallet over the heads of the dancers as she followed the customer out onto the dance floor. "You there! I think this is yours!" She was already loud enough when she was sober, so it was hard to imagine the culprit didn't hear her at this point.