Toga Party

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Atop a long table in one corner of the bar sits a row of punch bowls containing ladles and various cocktails: from margarita to plain screwdriver. These are accompanied by several bowls of ice, some containing various bottles of beer. There are stacks of plastic glasses, paper plates, napkins, and a large pile of ivy wreaths at one end. The drinks are buffet-style at this party, so help yourself.

There are plates scattered over the residual tables in the area, some overflowing with huge bunches of grapes, others containing savory fare such as chicken legs, hunks of bread, olives, cheese or humus dips.

To try and give an impromptu impression of a Roman/Greco theme, the tables have been topped with white tablecloths and chairs and surfaces strewn with ivy. If there had been a way to fashion columns or import colonnades in twenty four hours, Indy would have tried it. But ivy will have to do on short notice. At least its not poisonous.

Comments

[balletrat]

*Meg eyes him.*

I suspect you, *she accuses him darkly,* of horrible pundom using my proper name. Which you are not meant to use.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Hardly... I'm not that stupid."

Nevertheless, he inches his legs together in an attempt to fend off any impending knees to crotches.

"It's a type of cocktail with tequila in it. It's very good."

[balletrat]

So . . . like what whatsisname was trying to order when the Virgin Margarita came out of my tutu? *Meg hazards.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"I guess. Just try it," he urges impatiently.

[balletrat]

*Meg sighs, good-naturedly, and raises the margarita glass to her lips.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"WAIT!" he cries before she imbibes any of the contents.

[balletrat]

*Meg blinks and stares at him.*

This isn't going to turn me into a panda or something, is it? *she asks suspiciously.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"No," he grins, dragging her over to the bar. "If you're gonna do it, and this is your first one... then we gotta do it right."

A proper margarita glass appears on the counter, frosted with a ring of salt around the rim. Indy smiles and pours her drink into it and then offers it back, shrugging at her quizzical look. "I never worked out why it needs salt, but that's the proper way, supposedly."

[balletrat]

*Meg peers at it dubiously.*

- doesn't salt make you thirstier?

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"I think its to offset the bitterness of the tequila."

"All I know from my day's working with Marion at her club in Manhattan, is that, for the perfect margarita, the rim of the stemmed glass should first be rubbed with a cut lime or dipped in Triple Sec, and then dipped in sparkling marine salt."

[balletrat]

That sounds, *Meg says, still twirling the glass suspiciously between her fingers,* awfully complicated when all you want is to get drunk.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Its... fiddly. But I guess it works."

He gestures at her to take a sip.

[balletrat]

*Meg sighs.*

I'm trusting you, Indy, *she says, dourly, and takes a sip.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

He looks at her expectantly.

[balletrat]

*Meg considers for a long moment.*

It's not absinthe, *she pronounces, finally.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Tasty though... right? Different."

"The main ingredient is tequila, which is a spirit made from cacti if I recall."

[balletrat]

*Meg blinks at him.*

. . . I just drank a cactus?

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. Neat huh? All the alcohol without any of the spines."

"What?" he exclaims at her continued incredulity. "Coffee is a plant too at some point."

[balletrat]

Well, yes, *Meg says, reasonably,* but you can eat coffee beans. You can't actually eat cacti.

*She takes another sip, though.*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Um... yes. Yes you can. There's a type called nopal, or prickly pear, that has flat pads that can be cooked or eaten raw. It's popualr in Mexico and other Central American countries, and even some parts of Europe. The same cactus also bears avocado-type fruits that can be eaten."

"It's very succulent," he advises while his mun facepalms at botanical pun. He grabs a fleshy oval leaf from the plate that has arrived on the bar, and bites down on it with a crunch. It's the raw variety, but it's been despined and eyed.

"Mmmm... its kinda like green pepper... or asparagus."

He offers her a piece with no other intent than broading her horizons.

[balletrat]

*Meg eyes him.*

If I ever had any desire to eat, *she informs him,* it would not be to eat a cactus.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

"Guh... why do I always forget about your appetite thing?" he says with a frown. Because it worries him, so he tends to ignore it. He takes another bite before laying the pad back down. "That drink's probably got more calories than the cactus itself... what with all the sugar in the mixer."

"But I'm glad you like it. It's good to try new things." ...as long as they are not tea.

[balletrat]

*Meg eyes the drink dubiously.*

Drinks are liquid, *she says, hopefully. Don't remind her of these things!*

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

He grins and ruffles her hair softly. "Yes. Liquid."

"Well..." he says with a peremptory glance back to the throng, "I guess I'd better get back into it. Good luck with the whole marriage thing."

Drunken tact has finally left the building.

[balletrat]

*Meg nods, and takes another absent sip of her margarita.*

Have fun, Indy.