With some free time available today and a tinge of boredom, the road south delivered us to Tucson. Also included in our world of possibilities this Thursday was a side trip to San Xavier Mission, maybe the Titan Missile Museum, and some other sights around Tucson; instead, we got stuck on 4th Avenue for a day of shopping. The lament for the day is the old tired song about why is there nothing like this in the Phoenix area. Mill Avenue in Tempe lost its funk long ago; the giant malls are generic corporate shells with a dozen empty stores and more people walking for exercise than shopping. But Tucson still has its funk on with small independent shops selling tattoos, platform shoes, drug paraphernalia, used clothes, new clothes, lots of  Frida Khalo-inspired art and images, and beer. The fact of the matter was that we had to shop until 5:00 because it wasn’t until this hour that the Surly Wench Pub opened, and we weren’t leaving Tucson without a visit to the Wench. Good thing we made the pilgrimage because as we walked through those black doors down the wood floor to the bar, Starfish from Bikini Kill was playing, and behind us, on the lone TV high overhead, they were showing Human Centipede. There could be no doubt this was going to be the perfect endpoint to the day.