Yaaaaay! I arrived safely into Heathrow Airport! My plane ride, smooth and most of my fears about flying quieted by my faithful companion, Jack Daniel’s®. 🙂 If only going through customs had been equally as pleasant; Instead of the “Where are you going?” inquiry that I received with suspicion from airport security in New York, I was now getting from the “unwelcome wagon”, also known as a disgruntled, female immigration officer, “Why are you here, in the United Kingdom?” I responded, “To find a date” (I really was going to say that my search was for a “husband”, but thought, she might consider that some sort of illegal ploy to stay in her country.) She then gave me the “stink-eye of death” and let me pass (the WRETCH).
I happily hopped into a humongous cab that could’ve probably held my old studio apartment in Spanish Harlem and jetted off to my hotel, located of off “The Strand“, a historical street in the borough of Westminster.
In the lobby of the hotel, waiting to greet me, was an amorous, Italian concierge, with the temperament of “Pepe Le Pew“, who would keep offering his “personal assistance” by way of my hotel room… undoubtedly wanting more than a tip. More