Take E, genteel descendant of Stonewall Jackson, into seedy East Chapel yankee bar called Colonel Lips, aka: The Cheater's Paradise. The decor has a distinct old-world euro flair - a dark room with tall wooden booths carved with vines and each booth is equiped with heavy green velvet curtains which can be drawn closed for the more discreet & scandalous meeting. We leave our curtain open so we can spy on the various passersby and faded bar culture relics. Two gins and she tells me about a good museum in Antwerp and a magnificent ballroom in Vienna. I tell her how I'm about to annoy my housemate with a drumset which will appear suddenly in the middle of the livingroom.