Crazy cozy world

It’s been four days since I arrived to London and I was eager to spend a typical English Saturday afternoon outdoors.
So the Hyde Park it was. I came there at twelve, found a perfect deckchair for myself (there were plenty of those around), took Sue Townsend out of the backpack (well, not Sue herself, of course, but her book) and was ready to bite into an apple, when all of a sudden a man appeared in front of me and said:
“Two pounds, please.”
“Oh, and what are you gathering money for?”
“For sitting in the deckchair.”
“Excuse me?”
“Miss, you are in the Hyde Park, sitting in the deckchair. Do you really think that it’s free of charge?”
Oh. That’s what they mean talking about capitalist threats.
“Well, thanks. I guess I’d better go,”—I said and left the man all alone. No, I left him with the deckchair, actually.
After 15 or 20 minutes of strolling around, I got to the Speaker’s Corner. Plenty of people were crowding there. I started drifting from one group of people to another, picking up pieces of monologues and conversations. The collection appeared to be quite rich:
"Jesus loves yaaa!" some South American was yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Burn your computers! Read the Koran everyday instead, and you’ll see the truth,"—a guy with a long beard suggested.
"Yes! The time has come to legalise sex with dogs!" a young man was crying ecstatically.
I was almost ready to squeal something like “Henry VIII is a bastard!” when all of a sudden, a heavy rain attacked the city. People scattered in all directions looking for a shelter.
I decided to move to the nearest cafe.
On my way, I met a fox. I saw him sitting on the sidewalk. He looked straight into my eyes. I looked back with courage. He peered at me even more intensely and rose to his feet.
I wasn’t sure that it was love at first sight, so I bolted. Some small Turkish restaurant embraced me.
And guess what I found in my ear having gone to the bathroom? A ladybird! I noticed the insect while looking in the mirror and imagined vividly how the ladybird would crawl through my ear channel straight to my brain, build a nest there, give birth to three hundred tiny ladybirds and they’d rule me until I die.
Very quickly, I helped the invader out of my head using a cotton bud. It seemed very much displeased. No wonder, its evil plan to occupy my brain and rule there failed.
I’m not sure it was a typical English afternoon, but I definitely won’t forget the day when I became acquainted with the London wild life.