Greetings. Just home from my Saturday shift. If you want to know what it’s like working in a pub across the road from a weekend performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Lyceum, I invite you to picture the Battle for Helm’s Deep from The Lord of the Rings, except with all the orcs wearing fishnet stockings. In fact I would say that Helm’s Deep would be preferable to serving in a pub across the road from Rocky Horror, because at least at Helm’s Deep you would probably die, and could then rest. At the pub you just serve on, and on, and on.
But what’s this? Gandalf cresting the hill come first light on the fifth day, Eomer and a company of Rohirrim at his back, the sun’s nascent rays glinting off Shadowfax’s glistening mane?
Nah, it’s just James down with another case of tonic waters. That blond hair of his sure is luxurious when the light catches it right though. Oh well, best get back to it, the enemy are scaling the bar, breaking through the defences, and they’re snarling for pink gin.
And it looks like they’ve brought a cave troll.
OK, that’s all my words for tonight. I’ve swapped with Chris so I’m on the open tomorrow, so I have to be up in four and a half hours from now. I think it’s time for bed.
Farewell.
P.S. I know Gandalf brought Erkenbrand from the Fords of Isen in the book, not Eomer. If you also know that, just know that I also also know that. You’re not better than me. If you don’t know what I’m talking about then don’t worry. You probably are better than me.
:-)
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