Hooters

Wow, a Friday evening on the lash to give my bleary eyes and chair ridden arse and it's many sores some air.

This place does the most delicious chicken wings, maybe a close second to Nando's. Trust me, you don't want to go just for the service, ahem, they are tough salesfolk and they harass you! It's supposed to be the other way round. Big smiles, loud voices and they reaaaally put out for tips, you get body parts thrust at you while you're trying to chow on your food. And when you're done, they try and flog you nasty old t-shirts. Every 10 minutes they humiliate a customer who unwisely thought announcing their birthday will get them a free drink and maybe a shag. So conversation is impossible.

Maybe my social intolerance is caused by enforced toil on Milo Minderbinder's evil hamster wheel for 11 straight days!

We were going to cruise for chicks in the Mustang and our outragoeus British accents, but neither of us wanted to remain sober. Instead, we chugged martini's in Daniels and smoked one of their corrugated cardboard sticks they claim to be cigars. NEVER again! Quit hassling the Cubans and let them sell you some real stogies!

Compared to Crowley's martini's, they were a bit watery, and the lemon twist was all straight. This is not a matter of design, you have to twist it to rupture the little cells that hold in the lemon oil in the zest, otherwise you get no pleasant lemoniness.

Our extremely and not over the top polite waitress Sarah from Wisconsin was chatting to us about her trip to Europe, on her own and starting in Rome. We shared our experiences and warned her of the perils of travelling alone in a steamy latin country, especially one of the most insane cities in Europe. Hopefully she'll send us some pictures while we are here next month which we'll post.