When: 11th November Where: Treaty Towers Who: OPEN (3/4)
It was a fortuitous thing that Orlaith subsisted primarily on takeout and never filled her freezer with anything but the occasional bottle of vodka, because she had sent someone out for ice and they had returned with so many bags - for what purpose she couldn’t be sure - she would never have been able to fit them in if she’d had actual food in there. The party had been impromptu and accidental. In fact, Orlaith wasn’t sure how it had escalated so much, but she thought it might have something to do with the claustrophobia of Treaty Towers; if a door was open and there appeared to be music and alcohol inside, people took it as fair game. The nurses’ social it had been her turn to host had become a lot more than a nurses’ social.
“Someone brought, like, ten bags of ice,” Orlaith explained at the cobbled together vodka snowcone station she was standing at. Thank god she’d had an ice shaver and a lot of vodka. The syrups had been won in a raffle at work and she’d never opened them. “I was a bit afraid to ask why they thought we might need that much, so I took them all no questions asked, but what am I meant to do with ten bags of ice? And so,” - she gestured at the set-up in front of her, smile wide, - “snowcones in November. Shame we’re not still having that heatwave. Anyway, do you want one?”
