I doubt tired eyes are considered sexy, but then I guess we're lucky that we don't share lopsided eyes or are straight up Cyclopes. (My apologies to any Cyclops readers or readers with lopsided faces - I'm sure someone thinks you're attractive, just not me.) I couldn't complain if people saw similarities between us. She was pretty and talented. I wanted to ask if it would be narcissistic of me to say that she was beautiful. Suddenly I was glad I hadn't accepted any free drinks. If I had, I'd have surely asked something infinitely more awkward — something about how attractive our children would be.

Near midnight the younger crowd thinned to make room for the older, more seasoned drinkers and music connoisseurs. In black tights and Converse Allstars, Rebekah Pulley led her band of Reluctant Prophets through a series of soul-searching songs.

Kelly and I ventured down the street to hang posters for Contain It!: a multimedia art show in

Dunedin on Jan. 25. We ended up at Purple Moon Café, which was ornamented with Mardi Gras-style masks and airbrushed prints of fantastical dreamscapes. The space smelled of several years' worth of burnt incense, and it jingled with wind chimes. I was afraid I'd knock down one of the bookshelves full of power crystals, but Kelly, for once, seemed at home.

A small Asian man introduced himself by showing us a digital camera that cost more than my car. I expected him to flash us weird pornographic pictures, but instead he showed us accomplished photographs of women dressed as mermaids.

"Do you want to be a fairy or a mermaid?" Sherry Steven asked. The owner smoothed her purple gown and straightened her purple hair.

It was unclear if this was directed at Kelly or me, or what the consequences of our answers would be, but one thing was for certain — it was time to duck back into Dunedin Brewery to take Travis up on that free drink.

- Alfie

[email protected]

"I love shit-to-do papers," Kevin Thompson said Friday. "Creative Loafing tells me what to do and where to go, and I go."

He wasn't the only one who had heeded the paper's advice. I couldn't move through Dunedin Brewery without blocking someone's view of The Sugar Oaks onstage or stumbling into a conversation.

Bar-side, Travis Kriger repeatedly offered to serve me free drinks while Shannon Butler asked if I wanted to take a picture of her jugs (and I thought I was the only one fond of juvenile double entendres). I felt like they had mistaken me for someone important, someone like a bar critic, but I suspect they treated all the patrons with such courtesy. It was harder than usual to say no to the free beer. This wasn't tin-can swill but hearty microbrews on tap: Beach Tale Brown Ale, Redhead Red, Apricot Wheat Ale, Raspberry Wheat Ale, Celtic Gold Ale and Piper's Pale Ale. These were the kind of drinks that listed their impressive alcohol content beside their price. The argument could be made, at least in my mind, that a few beers would enhance my work performance, given that my job entails finding something in common to discuss with drunk strangers. Then again, with a crowd as easygoing as the

Dunedin crowd, I didn't have to be too bold.

After she finished playing, I introduced myself to singer Katherine Kelly on the excuse that a friend suggested that Katherine was the female version of me.

"It's the eyes," Katherine said. "We both have tired eyes."


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