Bouncers wouldn’t let hobbit pass on unexpected journey
LAST weekend, a bouncer on Mill Lane said words I never thought I would hear: “Look, lose the wig, sword, cloak and feet and you can come in.”
Not seen or read Lord of the Rings? Maybe stop reading now.
So in my endless striving for social acceptance I have joined a club – a triathlon club, in fact.
Due to work, family and a new Amazon Prime subscription, I have only been able to attend one of the club’s training sessions in my two months as a member so far.
This was at Cardiff International Pool where I realised sporadically doing weights had very little impact on my ability to swim fast.
I realised this as other club members sped through the water like eels while I surreptitiously tried to use my inhaler every other length.
However, there was one occasion that I thought would be my time to shine in my new club – the Christmas party.
Despite having only attended once, I thought there would be no better way than to get to know my new club mates than with a spot of drinking.
Even better, it was a fancy dress party!
I love fancy dress. On this occasion the theme was board games.
As my love of fancy dress is only matched by my love of board games this was perfect.
Having grown up playing the fun (but quite complicated) Lord of the Rings board game I decided to go as a hobbit.
Mistake one.
When I arrived at the Temple of Peace in Cathays Park for the social I (felt like I) looked awesome.
I had a curly wig (with pointy ears), my cloak of Lorien (made by the Lady Galadriel herself don’t you know), a sword and I had glued some “furry” feet onto my old running shoes.
Walking into the social, I was confronted with a Pop-Up-Pirate, some snakes on ladders, a woman dressed as a Twister mat, several Subbuteo players and the mouse from the game Mouse Trap.
However, I quickly realised that Lord of the Rings was not a classic board game. I suspected it looked like I
ANNA LEWIS TYLER MEARS
just shoehorned an old costume into a theme – which, to be fair, I had.
Fair play, though, the club are lovely and welcoming. I had a good night and at about 10pm I got a text from a friend of mine saying they were all heading to Retros on Mill Lane and I should join them.
This is where began my unexpected journey. Knowing it would take ages to wait for a taxi, I decided to walk to Mill Lane two).
CATHY OWEN KATIE SANDS
I(mistake
KATIE-ANN GUPWELL
Town, as you would imagine on a Saturday in December, was packed.
Due to the fact my hobbit feet were so big I was not able to walk quickly. It
was essentially like walking in flippers and I had to lift my legs high up in front of me every step, like I was in the Ministry of Silly Walks. On the way there I tried to walk with the pride befitting a member of the hobbit race.
Sadly the party animals of Cardiff
BRONTE HOWARD MARCUS HUGHES
did not allow this. “Hey Harry Potter, f*** off back to Hogwarts,” said one reveller whose enormous pecs and biceps were poking out of his “boys large” T-shirt. I tried to explain that I was actually a hobbit but he did not seem to have the same fascination with Tolkien lore as myself. Anyway as I arrived at the cultural hotspot that is Retros I was greeted by the two bouncers who would not let me in because I was “in fancy dress”. I decided that the best tactic to talking my way past these two men, who were built like the cave trolls in The
PHILIP DEWEY RUTH MOSALSKI THOMAS DEACON
Fellowship of the Ring, was to try to banter.
Unfortunately, I was not really able to pull that image off. It seems that pointing out how hilarious it is to tell a hobbit “you shall not pass” was somewhat lost on them.
Having failed to “banter” my way in, I opted for negotiation.
Using all my oratory skills I said “Please, please, please can I come in?”
Needless to say the Uruk Hai were unmoved. Apparently, you are only allowed in wearing fancy dress if you “call ahead”. I asked if I could just call now and come back in five minutes but apparently this was not an acceptable question.
So what could I do? I decided that perhaps they had missed how good my costume was. Maybe, once they realised how excellent my outfit was, they would surely let me in.
I showed them my little sword (no euphemism) and chucked in a reference for good measure adding that “even the smallest person could change the course of history”.
Still no change, I text my mate Leo who was inside. He came out and asked the bouncers very nicely if I could come in. People have always immediately liked Leo and the bouncer said the immortal line: “Look, lose the wig, sword, cloak and feet and you can come it.”
I explained, through Leo, that I could take everything off except the feet as they were glued to my shoes.
As Leo fluttered his eyelashes, the orcs of Mordor relented. I left my sword, wig and cloak near the entrance and went to walk in.
Unfortunately, now relieved of my cloak the bouncers could now see what trousers I had on. If you were judging by their reactions you would think I had unveiled a corpse or gun, not some H&M jogging bottoms.
“Sorry mate, no joggers,” said the head doorman (Nazgul).
I then faced the humiliation of having to put my cloak and wig back on in the middle of the street before I waited at 1am for my taxi, to a chorus of men singing the Harry Potter theme tune. Oh how I wished the eagles had come.
So essentially I stripped for the privilege of getting into Retros… and still didn’t get in.
It was essentially like walking in flippers and I had to lift my legs high up in front of me every step, like I was in the Ministry of Silly Walks
JESSICA WALFORD WILL HAYWARD