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[gavin62truck]

Tommy steps through the door; hesitates when he realizes this isn't his bedroom; mutters "Screw it" under his breath and continues on in.

He may be off duty today, but apparently Bar doesn't think so, because as soon as he approaches her, a napkin pops up bearing a message written in green: Éirinn go Brách. Enjoy your bartending shift.

Tommy barely has time to be annoyed before a book with an accompanying note from Kate appears.

For a moment, he stares at the handwriting, the sentiment that recalls his dad's parting anecdote when she visited his world, his home. He then flips through the volume, hearing in his head the way she teased him for not reading more.

Now he's just confused. Why the hell would she even give him a gift after what happened?

(No jar of spiced peaches either.)

(Should he leave something for her in return?)

(Is she still thinking about him?)

With a grumbling sigh, Tommy goes behind the bar and sets up the specials on the board.

St. Patrick's Day Happy Hour

Guinness (Irish dry stout a.k.a. beer)
Bushmills (Irish whiskey)
Jameson ( " " )
Connemara ( " " )
Michael Collins ( " " )
Feckin Irish Whiskey (duh)
Baileys Irish Cream (sort of like a whiskey milkshake)
Green Beer (alcoholic & non-alcoholic) also available

There's a conscientious pause before he mutters "Screw it" again and adds his customary discount at the bottom:

Ladies! Get 50% off any drink if you kiss the bartender -- he's Irish!

That being done, he leans back against the rear counter, ignoring the temptation of the liquor that surrounds him, and cracking open the Mark Twain novel, he actually starts to read it.


[OOC: Open all night. Or until it scrolls. Or forever, really.]

Comments

[notinthebook]

"Seriously?"

She stands for a second, arms crossed, eying the board with eyebrows raised and pulling together, before sliding a skeptical look at Tommy.

"Does that line actually work for you, or are you hoping people won't notice it until they're a couple of drinks in and feeling friendly?"

[gavin62truck]

At the word seriously, he picks his head up, a little startled, but it's fairly easy to distract him from reading and he shuts the book and slips it away.

And then he grins, because Emma's sarcasm is always welcome.

"A little of both, actually, but you'd be surprised. I didn't add that I'm a fireman or else I'd be givin' away way too many discounts."

It's a wry exaggeration, though tinted with just enough bravado that makes Tommy who he is.

[notinthebook]

"Please. If you need to add alcohol and a discount to get a kiss, then I'm sure as hell not buying what you're selling, fireman or not."

Despite that, she's shrugging off her brown leather jacket, hanging it on the back of a stool that she slides into, deputy star twinkling at her belt, because, hell. Tommy's not the only one of the two of them with any bravado, right?

"You know, I have never heard of a more unappealing term than whiskey milkshake. That's libel, Tommy. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

[gavin62truck]

"Hey, it's called incentive, okay? If I'm gonna push a few drinks around, both parties oughtta be able to get something out of this deal."

Whiskey-flavored kisses are a great way to take the edge off his sobriety, but he's not exactly going to admit that.

"Whiskey milkshake was the only way I could think of to describe it," he says with a shrug. "'Cause that's all it really is, ain't it? Cream with alcohol in it. It's great for breakfast, what with it having dairy an' all. But anyways, what're you drinking? Terms of the discount are negotiable, by the way," he adds with a smirk.

[knightoftheswan]

Lohengrin's didn't know so many different types of Irish whiskey existed. He'll now consider himself educated on the subject.

That's more than he expected when he dragged himself from the fireplace to do something about the empty mug in his hands.

"Just coffee, please," he requests, setting the mug down on the bar.

[gavin62truck]

And what's on the board ain't even half of what's available on the market.

Tommy puts the book down and steps over to the coffee machine where a full pot has already been brewed.

"Sure you don't want anything a little stronger?" he suggests, as he refills the man's mug.

[knightoftheswan]

The Knight's in that drink limbo where he wonders what harm would a drink do versus what point would there be in drinking it.

He'll still take his coffee but at the question, Lohengrin goes, "If you had to pick one..."

[gavin62truck]

"Bushmills," is Tommy's immediate reply, thoroughly sounding as if he knows what he's talking about. "That's always been my favorite. The other whiskeys are great, too, just slightly different flavors, so it's just a matter of taste and preference, really. Except for Feckin Irish Whiskey -- that's some new-fangled brand that just sounds fun to drink, but I doubt it has any staying power like the other names. Anyways, if you prefer beer, Guinness is tops, the Irish call it a meal in a glass 'cause it's real hearty and filling. Baileys is the lightest of the bunch, kinda sweet, smooth, and mild -- actually, it goes great in coffee if you want a splash."

A beat.

"Oh, and green beer don't count. I only put it up there in case anybody actually wants the damn stuff on account of it bein' Saint Patrick's Day."

[el_enmascarado_de_plata]

The sign gets a curious look from the fellow in the turtleneck and mask. Not a superhero-style domino mask, either, but a full face, full head silver Spandex mask. "You have an interesting way of celebrating the feasts of the saints here," he observes. "I'll have the Guinness, I think."

[gavin62truck]

Blink.



Nod!

"Right, one Guinness, comin' right up."

The elaborate process involved in pouring a Guinness buys Tommy some time to pull his thoughts together and stop staring. After all, he's seen weirder.

"People don't always drink to celebrate saints. Besides, I'm Irish. We don't need special occasions to drink," he adds wryly.

[el_enmascarado_de_plata]

"Well, I had assumed it was for this one particular saint," says the wrestler with a bit of a smile. "But I don't remember hearing of him being the patron of distillers."

Which would make the drinking make sense. Otherwise- well.

"To each country their own, then. It must make the day an interesting one."

[gavin62truck]

He chuckles. "Yeah, well, St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland in general, and so by association, its people and its customs, and so, y'know-- drinking."

Logic!

"Where're you from?"

Tommy lets the Guinness settle for a while before starting the second pour. Then, when it has a good head of foam on it, he carefully places it on the counter and slides it toward the masked man.

[waco_jim]

A cowboy makes his way to the bar. Well, back to the bar. He's been going back and forth most of the day. After all, it's in the spirit of the holiday.

"Gimme a double shot of Bushmills."

He takes a glance at the sign, then back at the bartender. Not bad for a man his age. Jim smiles mischievously.

"Is the first word of that offer negotiable?"

[gavin62truck]

A cowboy. Seriously. Always with the cowboys. And a cowboy with a sense of humor, apparently.

There's a stiff twist to Tommy's mouth as he reaches for the bottle of Bushmills.

"Funny."

He pours out a double and sets the glass down in front of him.

"Nope. It ain't."

[waco_jim]

"Shame," Jim says. "You ain't bad-lookin'."

He takes a long drink and sets the glass back down.

"Name's Jim."

[gavin62truck]

Oh, god, it's a Brokeback Mountain cowboy.

"And maybe you've already had one too many."

Leaning back against the rear counter, he folds his arms across his chest, crossing his feet at the ankles.

"Tommy."

[wheatencrown]

This Winter has been long and cold, but Demeter can feel Spring starting to find its way, soon.

She smiles at the specials and Tommy, this is a holiday, she enjoys as the Irish understand her, "Hello, Tommy. I'll have a Connemarra and give you a kiss."

[gavin62truck]

Tommy gives the older woman a curious look, her smile, her eyes, and voice very familiar -- her entire aura, really. But one never knows in a place like Milliways. She knows his name, and that surprises him as he reaches for the bottle of Connemara and a glass.

"Sure..." he says, even as he's a little unsure himself. "Do I-- know you?"

He sets the glass of whiskey down in front of her.

[wheatencrown]

She leans forward to kiss him, because her kiss hasn't changed, "Its Demeter, Tommy."

[sunbaked_baker]

There's a red-headed baker emerging from the kitchens, accompanied by a woosh of warm, cinnamon-scented air. Her sunflower-dotted blue apron is dusted with flour, saving her green t-shirt and purple jeans.

With a considering eye - oh, it must be a holiday in Tommy's world - she looks over the specials board.

There's just a bit of confusion. "...I thought you said you were from New York."

[gavin62truck]

That rush of sweet-smelling air is hard to miss, and it's kind of like a Pavlovian reaction when Tommy picks his head up and looks for the source. It's Sunshine, of course, and he shuts his book and sets it aside.

"Oh, yeah, I am -- but I'm Irish-American. My grandparents were from Ireland, most of my family married other Irish-Americans... It's a heritage thing."

He leans on the bar, giving her a lopsided smile. "Care to partake in the celebration?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"The Irish Cream does sound intriguing," she admits, scooting onto a bar stool. Who can say no to a whiskey milkshake, after all?

"I have... really no idea where my family's from, really. Mom was disowned by her parents for marrying my dad, and my dad and his family are all gone."

The Blaises were probably originally from the Albion or Éire, given their part in certain myths, and with Sunshine's red hair...

[hey35andholding]

"Can I be honorary-Irish Does if my lady business is shamrock-shaped?"

Clem scampers toward him, intending it all as a tease - she doesn't want to stray from Sam, but Tommy knows how to give her tit for tat in the banter department.

[gavin62truck]

"Is your lady business shamrock-shaped? I didn't notice. But hey, you already had some Irish in you, so that counts."

He flashes her a wicked grin.

"What're you drinking today?"

[hey35andholding]

"You'll never know," she says, sticking out her tongue. And actually? It is - mostly because Sam's still in recovery and she's only recently considered the merits of returning her attention to her personal grooming.

"Something smooth and sweet," she suggests.