The Tom Commandments

I can't believe it's taken me this long to write about my one true love in the city: Pinkerton Wine Bar. Basically Thomas Hudson, the bar's owner, is my favorite new best friend who sometimes gives me free wine, and always makes the best playlists. (And we all know how important the playlist is.)

Now, I have a lot of magical times at Pinkerton -- most of which involve "bar cigarettes" -- but last night was particularly spectacular, as evidenced by what I discovered written on a crinkled newspaper in my bag this morning as I lugged myself to work:

The Tom Commandments
(quite obviously in order of importance)

1. Thou shalt not speaketh of butt plugs.
2. Thou shalt not slam dance.
3. Thou shalt not ask to play thine own iPod.
4. Thou shalt not leave Pinkerton until the owner says you may.
5. Thou shalt not leave thine keys at the bar.
6. Thou shalt not apologize about trivial matters.

Now, I don't know about you, but I consider this the new end all be all of bar rules. If every bar lived by this simple creed, the world would be a better place, particularly on account of numbers four and six (which, coincidentally don't go together very well).