And a good evening to you from across the Pond after another GREAT DAY in the Mother Country. But again, it seems I need to catch you up on Wednesday night's activities.
So Wednesday was a GREAT DAY in the office, but I didn't get out of there until around 8 PM or so. However, making the most of having my fellow colonists in country, I rolled over to London Bridge around 8:30 to a pub called the Wheatsheaf.
This place was great (minus the "certain to be 100% death for anyone wearing a boot who tries to traverse the stairs in the rain" entryway, of course - you basically entered at a midget entrance and had to descend into a basement), and it was a GREAT night with Duncan (the Bristol Pistol), Andrew Harwood (the Guv'nah), Mark Goodyer (Lord), Jill Hewitt (the Pony), Ray (the Navigator), and Muffin Puffin. We caught a great footy match (Inter-Milan dropped Chelsea 2-1 in a thrilling fixture), had some good pints (I am TOTALLY a fan of Guinness now), and had a great time catching up with the work crew from out old haunt of Chester and from Carrick (little town in Ireland with a big bank population).
The problem was that Muffin Puffin and I didn't eat ANYTHING the entire night, with the result of us arriving back at the flat at midnight starving and desperate for calories. In a rush to drop my bags and get into the chips, I turned on two lights (hallway and living room) at the same time. The result was a blown fuse and a PITCH BLACK apartment. All I could think was: "This is sub-optimal."
So I walk down to the front desk, where the guy comes up and opens the breaker (let me go ahead and tell you - it looks NOTHING like a US breaker box). When he opens it, we see 14,576 different switches, which of course makes me panic (especially since this guy is asleep at the front desk EVERY DAY when I walk past in the morning - this cat and electronics? SCARY). However, he grabs a MASSIVE ASS RED SWITCH that I didn't even think to try before. The words on it? MAIN SWITCH. Yeah, I could already see this coming...
Five seconds later, power is restored, and "sleeper boy" has firmly concluded that I am a DONKEY of galcian proportions. However, with power intact, I was happy, and my wife set to preparing us a FABULOUS FEAST. What were the contents, do you ask? Some Liz Mirza left over cheese and peanuts, baby! Oh, yeah! I know what healthy is!!!!
14,000 calories and ZERO nutritional benefit later, we were asleep. However, I did get up at 6:30 (after a 1:30 bed time - no fear of zombies last night!) to head in and make the 4th straight day at the gym. TP - whilst there, I watched the "Tour of Oman" whilst on the bike. Dude, I gotta ask - WTH would ANYONE put on some spandex, shave their legs, and then proceed to ride something like 500 miles through nothing but rocks and a sandpit for the better part of a month in 189 degree heat? All the same, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna win the Tour de France next year - I'm thinking I will ask "Team P-Town" to be my sponsor. After all, I know that you've got some SERIOUS connections...
Today was great, with only one classic moment. I'm waiting for the elevator to come, and when it arrives, it opens to find a guy and girl MAKING OUT AS IF THEIR LIVES DEPENDED ON IT. I step into the elevator, and ONLY THEN do they realize there's someone else present. Instantly they separate and act as if NOTHING happened (JOKE). I turn my back to them, hoping to just get down the 9 floors without them trying to copulate in my presence. Therefore, imagine my surprise when the girl says, "So what are you and the missus doing this weekend?" Hoping I misheard, I try to think of a Lady Gaga song, but alas, it's too late. The guy responds, "Oh, she and I are going away for the weekend to Yorkshire." Really? REALLY? Not only are you MAKING OUT in our shade ball elevator, but you're ALSO cheating on your wife? Quality donkey...
The evening found us at the Porterhouse for a pair of Reds before heading to dinner at a GREAT Italian spot (courtesy of the X-Factor - Cody Schwob-Nelson), where I had my normal 24,000 calories, this time in the form of some red wine (good for the heart!) and lasagna. After that, it was a farewell to the peeps and a walk home.
And now that I am home, I feel that I must pay homage to two friends that will offically retire after a lifetime of service this evening. First, my Banana Republic shirt, dating back to June of 2002 (down in Hilton Head for Jason Stansell's wedding), has officially seen it's last wear. There's a hole in the elbow that I can no longer tolerate, and so it's time to part ways. Brother - you've been a trooper - here's hoping that someone can patch you up and reuse you.
Second is my pair of bass shoes, staples of my work attire for over a year. However, with the boot and with the incessant walking in London, they are no longer fit for purpose. You cats were AWESOME, and you will be missed. However, in an effort to prevent ANOTHER stress fracture, I feel it's time to give you some rest.
NOTE TO ALL READERS: There will be no blog until Sunday, because Sam and Ray "I'm Dinger's favorite character" Tavares are off for a lad's weekend in Lisbon, Portugal - YEAH, BABY!!! But fret not -lots of GREAT pictures to come.
Okay, that's all the news that's fit to print. Chat tomorrow!
Sam and Jenny