I drink; therefore I am. (OPEN)

[code_obsidian]

WHO: Garak and whoever shows up (Feel free to threadjack and ignore posting order, ya drunks.)
WHAT: Getting drunk, self medication, and a stunning display of healthy coping mechanisms.
WHERE: The bar.
WHEN: Early evening until.

Comments

[got_his_towel]

Ford accepted Garak's answer about Bashir without any problem. It sounded reasonable to him.

He shook his head in answer to the next question. "Not a function," he told Garak. "But it's part of the hotel. Sometimes you'll just happen to find exactly what you want to hear the first try."

[code_obsidian]

"Pity that," he said. "Ah, well, let's give it a go and see what comes up." He found a few Cardassian selections he liked, a little Deltan mood music which prompted him to say to Ford, "I hear it's a very different experience with the pheromones. Too bad anyone else but a Deltan would go insane with lust from it in a live concert." He finished off his selection with something he had never heard of but liked the look of one of the words, klezmer.

When he stepped back, the music playing skipped a couple of times, and suddenly a wild Romanian Jewish folk tune began to play, the lyrics incomprehensible to Garak because they were sung in Yiddish. "What is that?" Garak called over his shoulder to Dean, believing it was one of Dean's selections.

[only_human]

Julian laughed, hard. "Garak! Just your luck you select a song and out comes Yiddish!"

[code_obsidian]

"I selected this?" Garak looked surprised and glanced at Ford as though for confirmation. He took a long pull from the kanar bottle. "Could be worse. It could be Tholian."

[got_his_towel]

"It could be Klingon," Ford pointed out, further to their earlier discussion.

[code_obsidian]

"Even worse," Garak agreed emphatically.

[only_human]

Julian laughed again. He was enjoying himself immensely.

"Agreed. Worf plays his Klingon opera rods when he wants some time alone. He really knows how to clear a room and it's why he set up quarters on the Defiant, if you ask me. Too many people giving him grief about his music ... and that lilac ... stuff ... he wears."

[raised_fromhell]

"Do I want to know?" Dean asked, in reference to the lilac.

[code_obsidian]

"If you had ever smelled natural Klingon, you'd be grateful for the lilac," Garak said, whether to Dean, Bashir, or both it was hard to tell. His eyes were glazed.

[only_human]

Still laughing from before, Julian nodded and agreed. "Yes! Klingons do not enjoy bathing and they sweat. However, if you're Worf, you don't sweat, you perspire ... with honor!"

Pushing the overwhelming memory of being on the Defiant packed in tight with a sweaty, smelly Worf out of his mind, he raised his glass and proposed a toast. "To lilac!"

[raised_fromhell]

Dean raised his glass, not exactly sure the occasion called for it and more than a little confused. "To...lilac."

[code_obsidian]

Garak just shook his head and turned back to the jukebox. He had little patience for a jocular drunk. "Show me some of the ones you like best here," he asked Ford.

[got_his_towel]

"Well," Ford said, flipping through the selection, "I like anything by Disaster Area," he pointed out, "like I said." He flipped through the catalogue some more. "I like the Idanian mood music. It's almost as good as their puddings." He continued perusing the jukebox's collection. "Oh!" he said. "Arcturan folk music. It's very good music for drinking."

[code_obsidian]

"Mmm, Idanian spice pudding," Garak said, thinking he could go for some of that right now. Most people probably wouldn't think it went with kanar. Garak wasn't most people. "I do like their music. Their hoods, on the other hand, very unfortunate fashion sense."

The Yiddish song ended, and Dean's next selection started to play. "You should select some," Garak said, taking another nice, long swig. The entire room tilted to the left. To compensate, he tilted to the right. "Seems like the order doesn't matter too much."

[got_his_towel]

Ford nodded and moved into a better position in front of the jukebox and began making further selections, sipping at his hypervodka as he did so.

[only_human]

After his fifth glass of scotch, Julian thought about trying to get off his chair to see if his legs would hold him, but the tender pushed another scotch in front of him and he smiled.

"Guess I'll stay."

He picked up the drink, took a generous gulp, and turned to Dean.

"Benjamin Franklin once said: 'Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.' Do you believe in God, Dean?"