Shortly after I arrived, a pickpocket tried to rob me. When I reported it to the watch, one said to the other, “Sounds like light-fingered Lon. I’m shocked that he would stoop so low.”

The other one burst out in loud laughter.

I was in the store when two women came in after me. One said to the other, “You really have to hand it to hobbits."

“Why?” her friend asked.

“They can’t reach it on their own.”

The shopkeeper said, “At least hobbits have a good perspective on life. They’re always looking up.” I was the only one not laughing.

I tried to get a job as the mayor’s assistant. When I came in to check on my application, the clerk looked down at me and said, “Well, you made the short list." She snickered. "But you didn't get the job." After a pause, she continued. "If you're looking for work, you might try the Pony. You never know. Barliman may need a short order cook!" Her snickers followed me out the door.

Once, while I was enjoying an ale at the Prancing Pony, I flirted a bit with a handsome man. He immediately rejected me. “Don’t even try,” he said, gazing down at me. “Long-distance relationships don’t work out.” His friend said, “Better treat her nice, or she’ll punch you in the knee.” They snorted so hard they sprayed beer through their noses.

I was outside tending to my flower pots when the woman who lived next door said to her friends, “Appreciate the little things in life. Give a hobbit a hug.” The friends all patted me on the head. In fact, so many people patted me on the head that I had to wash my hair twice a day.

All this finally got on my nerves, so I cut my stay short and moved to the Shire. Soon, though, I'll be visiting Bree again, so I'm trying to find some big folk jokes to use in self defense. Alas, it's a tall order.