Stomachache Wednesday

[feminine-menace.livejournal.com]

There was nobody in the bed other than herself when she awoke this morning, and there are no plastic bead necklaces around (the ones the Bar put on her are gone, and she figures if she'd earned some more, they would still be here). There is no evidence that she did anything really, blindingly stupid last night - except for a killer hangover and, well, the fact that she doesn't remember a large chunk of last night. She doesn't even remember where she stopped remembering.

After taking a shower so she looks and feels a bit less like death warmed over, she stumbles down the stairs into the Bar. "Grpmh. Fuckinell," she mutters as she emerges into what seems to her like a cruelly excessive amount of light, though in actuality it is no brighter than usual. She doesn't know what time it is, but she is dimly aware that there aren't many people around. Some are eating breakfast quietly, a few others are slumped on the tables, asleep. There is no mess from last night, although YT is sure that the patrons of the Bar must have made one. Either the waitrats or the Bar itself cleaned up good.

YT stumbles over to the bar proper and mumbles out a request for a glass of ice water. It appears, accompanied by two unasked-for aspirin in a small saucer. YT is not sure whether the Bar is trying to help or whether it's mocking her. She doesn't really care. She scoops up the medicine, drops it in her mouth and washes it down with the water, which is so cold it makes her teeth hurt and intensifies her throbbing headache. It also seems to clear the fog a bit.

She's always wondered if a Prairie Oyster actually works, and now seems as good a time as any to find out. But she'd better see if she can hold down plain water first.

Comments

[feminine-menace.livejournal.com]

"Fuckin' everything, right now," YT replies. She is still feeling like a semi rolled over her head. She is also pissed that this guy is talking to her, when she is a complete stranger to him and obviously in no mood to be talked to. She turns her face towards the wall. "Unless that stuff is an instant cure for hangovers, I don't give a rat's ass about it. Now go away and let me die in peace.

[md_donighal]

"To the best of my knowledge, there's no such thing as an instant cure for hangovers, but I'd think Bar could provide a reasonably quick one. If I went and got such a thing, do you think you could cope with continuing to live?"

[feminine-menace.livejournal.com]

If YT weren't feeling so sick, she'd sock the guy. Then again, fighting in the Bar is against the rules, and she doesn't know what the punishment is for breaking them. "Probably," she responds sourly.

[md_donighal]

"Very well then." He heads back over to Bar and returns with two single-dose packets. One identifies itself as Painaway, a trade name for "transcetamone" (something presumably as far beyond paracetamol as paracetamol is beyond aspirin, in terms both of analgesic efficacy and of not inducing nausea). The other is Purge, which bills itself as "the fastest and safest sobriety pill on the market today" (where "today" is a date well in YT's future).

"If you've got a hangover, you're probably no longer needing this," gray-suit says with regard to the Purge, "but Bar apparently wanted to be sure. And who knows? Even if you don't need it now, it may come in handy some other time." He shrugs. "And now, I'll leave you to it. If I haven't made too bad a first impression, look me up. If not..." He shrugs again. "...I'll live."

[feminine-menace.livejournal.com]

YT, feeling a little less snarky, gives him a barely perceptible nod (because she can't manage anything bigger than that). She then tears open the packets. Though she's got nothing to wash the capsules down with, she doesn't think she can make it back to the Bar or flag down a waitrat, so she just works up some spit to swallow them with. It works well enough.

She wonders if this stuff works faster than what she's used to: it's not instant, that's for sure. YT lays her head down again and waits for the medicine to do its work.