[TM] Drunk Dialing... one more time....
Scotch. It was the last little bottle in the mini-bar. He had carried it down with him to the hotel bar, and set it on the bartop. The bartender eyed him and just shook his head.
"I want... the real one." Xander slurred as he lay his head onto the glossy wood surface staring at the bowl of assorted nuts that were just out of his reach. The bartender brought him a glass of scotch on the rocks and Xander grinned at him. "Thanks. I wish I could reach the nuts."
The fit of giggles that followed that were reminiscent of high school, fighting with Riley... or whoever else would entertain his odd sense of humor. Oz was good for a look, or a glance, but never really a laugher. "Sorry." He apologized to the bartender and the other guy at the end of the bar. "My friend died. Car- no Limo accident. I think I'd be better if it was a demon thing. Cause... demons... and yeah. It's okay." He waved the guy off, figuring that he already seemed drunk, so the odds that the businessman trying to forget whatever he was forgetting would actually remember? Slim to none.
For forty minutes Xander stared at his cell phone on the bar. The service light blinking at regular intervals telling him that it was indeed working. The scotch was horrible. He hated it, but he knew that it would be the last thing he drank before sinking into bed, or onto the bathroom floor so he stuck with it. He stuck with it until the bartender cut him off. Thankfully Xander could still walk to the elevators, fully using the walls for support and stopping every once in a while just to make sure he was still upright.
He knew it was stupid. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be drinking his emotions away, let alone being in this stupor right now. He had to be responsible tomorrow. He had to make phone calls and be supportive, and right now the only thing supportive that he could think of was a bra. A bra and the wall. He finally made it to his room, and three attempts with the card key later he was inside flopping onto the couch.
There was one phone call he hadn't made, and he probably wouldn't have made it if he hadn't been so drunk, but he did it anyway. He cracked the small bottle of scotch that he had in his pocket and finished it off.
Scotch. No glass. "Angel. Angel, Angel, Angel. AaaanGel. She loved you you know. Loved you and not me... well maybe me. Different time though. Different. Difference of me. She loved you and she trusted you. Trusted you when she couldn't come back home. Didn't want to come to the Dale... wanted to be a big star. Ended up doing what? Getting visions and being a demon and risking a lot for your ass... and then? Then I don't know and then Angel.. Aaangel. You know your name has Gel in it? Like it's there. Teachers in schools tell us that Angel's have Gel in their hair... in their HAIR Angel. How funny is that? That's funny Angel. You never liked jokes. Never liked me either. Now what. She's gone. I want to blame someone... I wanted to blame you. Blame you with all the blamey blames I could give to you. To you... you... but NOPE! Can't do that. Cause it's not your fault this time... nope. Not you.. it was them. THEM. Like on Lost... it was THE OTHERS Angel. THE OTHERS. I like Lost. Kate is trouble. Kate is like Faith... Faith. Angel Faith liked you too! It's the Gel. The Gel that Angel's have in their hair... their hair..."
The beep from Xander running out of time on Angel's voicemail was barely audible as the phone hit the ground as he passed out. It would hang up eventually all on it's own, and if anyone called him back the sound of his ringtone that was "I Dream of Jeanie" would wake him up, with one hell of a headache.
[ooc: i could not resist drunk xander calling angel.]
"I want... the real one." Xander slurred as he lay his head onto the glossy wood surface staring at the bowl of assorted nuts that were just out of his reach. The bartender brought him a glass of scotch on the rocks and Xander grinned at him. "Thanks. I wish I could reach the nuts."
The fit of giggles that followed that were reminiscent of high school, fighting with Riley... or whoever else would entertain his odd sense of humor. Oz was good for a look, or a glance, but never really a laugher. "Sorry." He apologized to the bartender and the other guy at the end of the bar. "My friend died. Car- no Limo accident. I think I'd be better if it was a demon thing. Cause... demons... and yeah. It's okay." He waved the guy off, figuring that he already seemed drunk, so the odds that the businessman trying to forget whatever he was forgetting would actually remember? Slim to none.
For forty minutes Xander stared at his cell phone on the bar. The service light blinking at regular intervals telling him that it was indeed working. The scotch was horrible. He hated it, but he knew that it would be the last thing he drank before sinking into bed, or onto the bathroom floor so he stuck with it. He stuck with it until the bartender cut him off. Thankfully Xander could still walk to the elevators, fully using the walls for support and stopping every once in a while just to make sure he was still upright.
He knew it was stupid. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be drinking his emotions away, let alone being in this stupor right now. He had to be responsible tomorrow. He had to make phone calls and be supportive, and right now the only thing supportive that he could think of was a bra. A bra and the wall. He finally made it to his room, and three attempts with the card key later he was inside flopping onto the couch.
There was one phone call he hadn't made, and he probably wouldn't have made it if he hadn't been so drunk, but he did it anyway. He cracked the small bottle of scotch that he had in his pocket and finished it off.
Scotch. No glass. "Angel. Angel, Angel, Angel. AaaanGel. She loved you you know. Loved you and not me... well maybe me. Different time though. Different. Difference of me. She loved you and she trusted you. Trusted you when she couldn't come back home. Didn't want to come to the Dale... wanted to be a big star. Ended up doing what? Getting visions and being a demon and risking a lot for your ass... and then? Then I don't know and then Angel.. Aaangel. You know your name has Gel in it? Like it's there. Teachers in schools tell us that Angel's have Gel in their hair... in their HAIR Angel. How funny is that? That's funny Angel. You never liked jokes. Never liked me either. Now what. She's gone. I want to blame someone... I wanted to blame you. Blame you with all the blamey blames I could give to you. To you... you... but NOPE! Can't do that. Cause it's not your fault this time... nope. Not you.. it was them. THEM. Like on Lost... it was THE OTHERS Angel. THE OTHERS. I like Lost. Kate is trouble. Kate is like Faith... Faith. Angel Faith liked you too! It's the Gel. The Gel that Angel's have in their hair... their hair..."
The beep from Xander running out of time on Angel's voicemail was barely audible as the phone hit the ground as he passed out. It would hang up eventually all on it's own, and if anyone called him back the sound of his ringtone that was "I Dream of Jeanie" would wake him up, with one hell of a headache.
[ooc: i could not resist drunk xander calling angel.]