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You Are What You Drink [open]
The ballet, for Jack, left much to be desired. Much. Very much. An incredible amount of everything to be desired. There weren't even any decent hotties in the audience or on the stage. It was a complete and utter disappointment. The only thing more disappointing was that when the cast list for Interview With A Vampire came out and the knowledge that there would be no incredible on-screen man love. A complete disappointment.
Because of his incredibly overwhelming and compete disappointment - ballet was really going to the straights, wasn't it? - Jack sauntered into a bar, sat down, crossed his legs and ordered a frilly little drink. "Excuse me!" He slapped his hand on the table in front of where he sat, expecting service to come to him. "Yeah, hi. Yeah, you, Miss Mustache. Can I get a Cabana Boy Sunset, complete with cabana boy and a little umbrella?" Not even allowing the poor barmaid a chance to answer, he smiled, folded his hands together on the table and cocked his head toward her. "Thanks."
There was the idle thought about going home, if he could find it, and express his frustrations to what he decided was his new favorite neighbor in the history of neighbors; the Billy Idol looking fellow, Spike. A little rough around the edges and scary, but really, who wasn't scary before their first drink (and in Spike's case, probably smoke - he seemed the type to have ashtray breath) of the day. Spike just needed to get laid, then he'd be right as rain and maybe... just maybe, if he was nice, Jack would find him a lady friend.
But right now he had his Cabana Boy Sunset being set before him, complete with little green umbrella. "Hold on, excuse me... no cabana boy?" The barmaid raised an eyebrow, probably considering slapping him in her brain. "Look, whatever. Either get a wax or go back to your Three-Ring, Circus Bear." Waving her off, Jack took happily to his frilly little drink.
Because of his incredibly overwhelming and compete disappointment - ballet was really going to the straights, wasn't it? - Jack sauntered into a bar, sat down, crossed his legs and ordered a frilly little drink. "Excuse me!" He slapped his hand on the table in front of where he sat, expecting service to come to him. "Yeah, hi. Yeah, you, Miss Mustache. Can I get a Cabana Boy Sunset, complete with cabana boy and a little umbrella?" Not even allowing the poor barmaid a chance to answer, he smiled, folded his hands together on the table and cocked his head toward her. "Thanks."
There was the idle thought about going home, if he could find it, and express his frustrations to what he decided was his new favorite neighbor in the history of neighbors; the Billy Idol looking fellow, Spike. A little rough around the edges and scary, but really, who wasn't scary before their first drink (and in Spike's case, probably smoke - he seemed the type to have ashtray breath) of the day. Spike just needed to get laid, then he'd be right as rain and maybe... just maybe, if he was nice, Jack would find him a lady friend.
But right now he had his Cabana Boy Sunset being set before him, complete with little green umbrella. "Hold on, excuse me... no cabana boy?" The barmaid raised an eyebrow, probably considering slapping him in her brain. "Look, whatever. Either get a wax or go back to your Three-Ring, Circus Bear." Waving her off, Jack took happily to his frilly little drink.