A Tale of Two Bars.
My father will only go to Bar Jolly, my brother Julian only to Bar Rialto. So when we are in Verona for the summer holidays, the seemingly simple choice of where to get one's morning cappuccino can have serious implications. Lines are drawn, alliances formed. It's like a play by Eugene O'Neill only with less potential for a happy outcome.
(In list above, Eliot clearly feeling the pressure already.)