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Back to MHA #12, Sunday Afternoon
Some days you had to embrace tradition. Or even someone else's tradition - St. Patrick's Day wasn't generally a big holiday for Ulysses, but this year, this week, he'd felt like he needed the potentially cleansing experience of rowdy crowds. So he'd gone on a little bit of a gay bar crawl on the mainland on Saturday night.
Had it been a good night? Hard to say.
He'd woken up in a stranger's bed, feeling like trash, followed by being awkwardly shuffled out the door like maybe he was.
The Commute/Walk of Shame back to the island hadn't been great. He'd probably made it actively worse with his rash decision to call up Portalocity to ask about connections back to his Los Angeles, knowing full well they weren't going to have any and wouldn't know when they could anticipate having service up and running again, because it was the same answer he'd gotten every time he'd asked in the past two years.
He'd asked about Fillory, too.
At least there was a sense of novelty about getting the same spiel about someone else's home for a change, right?
Whatever. He was just glad MHA was so close to the causeway, so he didn't have to try and find the energy to climb too many of the island's stairs. Fumbling with the keys right outside his door seemed to be effort enough.
Maybe the next tradition he'd embrace would be ordering some hangover Mooby's.
[ooc: Can be open, sure.]
Had it been a good night? Hard to say.
He'd woken up in a stranger's bed, feeling like trash, followed by being awkwardly shuffled out the door like maybe he was.
The Commute/Walk of Shame back to the island hadn't been great. He'd probably made it actively worse with his rash decision to call up Portalocity to ask about connections back to his Los Angeles, knowing full well they weren't going to have any and wouldn't know when they could anticipate having service up and running again, because it was the same answer he'd gotten every time he'd asked in the past two years.
He'd asked about Fillory, too.
At least there was a sense of novelty about getting the same spiel about someone else's home for a change, right?
Whatever. He was just glad MHA was so close to the causeway, so he didn't have to try and find the energy to climb too many of the island's stairs. Fumbling with the keys right outside his door seemed to be effort enough.
Maybe the next tradition he'd embrace would be ordering some hangover Mooby's.
[ooc: Can be open, sure.]