Have you ever dreamt you were a hobbit? Psh, yeah, me neither! But for the sake of me making a point, let’s imagine for a minute we were hobbits. How awesome would it be if consuming seven meals a day was considered a socially acceptable diet? Pretty awesome.
For those of you that haven’t read the “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy, you should know that as a species, hobbits are just better than humans at enjoying life. They never wear shoes, they live underground and they’re always partying!
I’ve found in my search to embody these regal creatures that I feel most like a hobbit whenever I visit my favorite little hobbit-hole on Franklin Street, Goodfellows.
Upon first venturing underground, I can always sense the change in pressure. The entire bar has a particular earthy atmosphere about it, making me feel as if I’m exploring deep in a cave.
Wooden benches and tables line the lower interior walls and cut-stone wedges decorate the remaining exposed areas.
Most of the walls also have large engraved mirrors hung above the wooden booths. I’ve found myself watching people stare at their own reflections for uncomfortable amounts of time.
Sometimes I like to make a little game of it: one point if they fix their hair, two if they adjust their posture, three if they check their teeth and 10 whole points if you catch them making a duck face!
Customer service is always well above average compared to other bars on Franklin Street. Counters and tables are kept clean, and I’ve personally never waited more than three minutes to be served.
Most of the bartenders are big guys with large beards, which basically means you’re being served by a dwarf minus the height deficiency.
