Lord of the Binge

One thing I didn't mention yesterday is that Wednesday night we were in a bar called "Hobbit House". It had a circular door (just like a hobbit hole) and was owned, managed and staffed by midgets. Dwarves? Little people? Whatever. Hobbits. I didn't see anyone blowing smoke rings, nor did I ask if they consumed eight meals a day. The interior was typical kitch, with a Lord of the Rings theme, but like any good bar it served alcohol. That's all I really need.

Sad to say, this is not the first time in my life I've been in a LOTR-themed bar. In January 1996 I was wandering around Seville, Spain very late one night with a group of college friends when we stumbled across a bar called "El Hobbit". The interior was decorated with all manners of LOTR crap -- tapestries, paintings, I think there were even some swords hanging on the wall. It turned out to be a great place, made even better by the fact that we were already shitty drunk when we got there. I spent an hour having a conversation with a local who claimed he was a novice bullfighter. Politeness being what it is, I never told him that he was just a novice bullshitter.

I enjoy the hell out of what I do, and the LAPT and APPT put on a good show, but all of the traveling and time zone jumping of the last two weeks have really wiped me out. Yesterday I crashed out at midnight to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Tonight I suspect I will be putting my liver to the test after we're done for the day. Carter Gill keeps mentioning a club called Embassy (he's on the hunt for sexy, easy Filipina women) but my internet research suggests we avoid Embassy and hit a place called Alchemy instead.

Really though -- as long as wherever we go serves alcohol, I'll be fine.