Thursday, April 21, 2005

British Hospitality

So this Texan who visits the UK to sample Wadworth's 6X and other fine beers is in London and decides to explore the city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the sights, and occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the lads, and have a pint of bitter.

After a while, he finds himself in a very high-class area...big, stately residences... no pubs, no shops, no restaurants, and worst of all... NO PUBLIC TOILETS. He really, really has to go, after all those pints of bitter.

He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem. As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London Bobby, who says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know."

"I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American, "but I really, really HAVE TO GO, and I just can't find a public toilet."

"Ah, yes," said the Bobby, "Just follow me".

He leads him to a back "delivery alley", then along a wall to a gate, which he opens.

"In there," points the Bobby. "Whiz away Sir, anywhere you want."

The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom. Since he has the cop's blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved.

As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobby, "That was really decent of you... is that what you call "British Hospitality?"

"No sir", replied the Bobby, "That is what we call the French Embassy!"

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