Wednesday, July 27, 2005

London Snapshots 

From The Fixin's Bar:

1) Waiting at a bus stop outside of a movie theater in Piccadilly Circus, I am passed by two Pakistani boys with thick accents. One of them waves to me. I instinctively wave back. The other says "you know that guy?" The first boy nods. "I met that big nigger at the snooker room," he says.

2) Sitting on the 94 bus headed into Shepard's Bush, a lanky Englishman in his late 40s sits next to me. His phone rings, and he answers it loudly:
"'Allo? Okay, you've seen the ad, then? No, no, I speak English. 'Ats the only language I know. English. No, no, no, you've got it wrong. I like women. WOMEN. Right. Right. Right. Those are the two facts. I speak English, I like women. [long pause]. Meet me in Ravenscourt Park tomorrow at 6:15. I'll have on a red hat." (hangs up).

3) After asking a cab driver to bring myself and [a British employee of my company, named T.] to a bar that was still open (at 10:45 this is a rarity, apparently - what the hell is this town?), he tells us he knows just the place.

He pulls up in front of a small pink brick building with a sign reading "Secrets..." on the awning.

T.: "Is this a stripper pub?"
Cabbie: "It isn't a church."
T.: "Is there another place, though, around here, just a regular pub?"
Cabbie: "In there, you can suck on their titties for 15 quid."
T.: (nervous laugh)
Cabbie: "Why, you a proper ponce? I don't know anything about where them kinds of bars are. Get out then. End of the road for you two, Poncie."

I was ready to go in, but T. begged off, saying he thought he'd be fired if someone from [our company] knew he took the American to "Secrets...".


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