Well Finally post numero dos... Stop two, London
England.
I certainly picked a weird time to go see henri, one of my longtime drinking
buddies and old roommates. I showed up on monday and left thurs. morning. plus
the poor kid is finally working a 9-5 now. Lucky for henri's sake I was pretty
tired from the recent weekend and all the traveling so I didn't manage to get
him fired. Almost, but no cigar. (wait till I come back through London on my way home
through!) The second I stepped off the plane into the busy beehive that is Heathrow,
I received a swift slap in the face by the pimp hand of the U.K. exchange
rate. I was extremely parched from my flight mostly because virgin Atlantic
likes to serve their water in either shot glasses or mini shampoo size bottles
and I got tired of asking the irritable stewardess. so off the plane I went
straight for a mini-mart to buy a beverage and a snack. When the lady told me
the price in her pleasantly smart accent I nearly messed myself when I
converted it to USD. "$55,000 for a fucking coke and smile??" This
trip's budget was doomed.
Henri's brilliant directions to his apartment were such crap that the cabbie
couldn't even figure it out. An address would have been nice. so after driving
around aimlessly for 20 minutes increasing the fare by multiple figures, the
guy dropped me off in the 'area' and said "good luck mate" and then
drove away with a small American fortune.
It was great to see henri, and meet his very German girl friend, his roommate
and his roommate super hot sweedish girl friend. Sweeden is now going to be a
stop on the European leg of this trip for sure.
First night was low key and spent it mostly catchy up over some wine. I
ended up taking an ambien so I could get some much needed deep rest and to
adjust my body to the time zone. Of course ten minutes after I take my sleeping
pill I discover the live broadcast of the monday night football game (pats vs.
ravens) on some UK sports channel in the high 800's- HEAVEN! one of my largest peeves
about being abroad is missing my beloved patriots. So I struggled desperately
to stay awake and watch the game. Despite the jumping jacks and cold water to
the face, the wine and ambien took charge and I didn't make it past the first
quarter. We still won, of course.
The second night was the only night we went out, which was probably best for
all persons involves. I didn't wake up till and 3 pm thanks to my pharmaceutical
induced coma and in London
it gets dark at about noon. So I missed all the touristy things I wanted to do
for the day and settled for a long jog around Hyde Park.
After almost getting hit by three cars because of the difference in road edict
(I discovered yellow stop lights mean speed up, not slow down) I made it back to the apartment and began to
get ready. Henri thought it would be a good idea to take me to all the
touristy bars that all the American students and old sleazy brit-tops go to get
pissed and hook up. It wasn't much of a slice of true London nightlife but it was still a good time
in its own right. The places were lined with heavy set and sloshed chicks both brits
and yanks. It seemed that older British men like to come here dressed in their
work suits to shoot a little ‘British accent’ game at the easy American
piggies. After 6 or 7 Guinness’s we got into the game a little as well but our
better judgment saved us from the "quantity, not quality" mind set of
these bars.
Two memorable events occurred that still strike me a smile. The first place
we stopped at, henri, christian (roommate) and I were enjoying our first pints
of the night, when some freckle faced irish alcoholic chick got our attention
and in a thick drunk Dublin accent asked "do you engage in physical
violence?" Caught off guard we replied "no" and then
YOINK! She snagged henri's beer in took two steps back to her group of
friends to continue chatting as nothing had happened. Needless to say henri was
both pissed and shocked but there really wasn't much he could do. You can't
give a drunk Irish gal a beat down in public over a pint... well maybe in the
right neighborhood of northern
Ireland but not here. So after a few words
of anger henri managed to earn half of his own beer back. She didn't even need
the beer at all. She looked like the 'drunk girl' in her group of friends. The
one whose friends have to decide who’s turn it is to baby-sit her before they
go out for the night. We saw her later get into a nearby car and drive home,
she probably ran over a small family and is in jail as we speak.
The second altercation happened after the bars had closed
and they were begging us to leave. Henri in some way managed to insult a skinny
French guy while smoking a cigarette. This frenchy started going on about how
powerful he was and that we were nothing (even though he had been hanging out
at the same crappy bar we were). With one clean open hand slap to the face
henri wiped the frog’s pretentious smile right off his face, as well as his
cigarette. After a short pause, The masseur’s rantings changed from condescending
remarks to lethal threats. He proclaimed that we were all already dead. That
tomorrow we would not wake up because he was to have us killed. blah blah blah.
The friends he was with rolled their eyes at their friend like "here we go
again" and then pulled him away. So needless to say I'm still alive and
well and enjoying the bangkok heat. Till
next time….
