Arrived in London from an overnight flight a few hours ago. Typically, we are calm, cool, sophisticated travelers from another Metropolis. This time, however, we are going to be über tourists. A sassy West End musical. The Ian Fleming exhibit at the British War Museum. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we wound up on the top deck of a big red bus. We’ve even made reservations to tour Buckingham Palace. While there, I want to try and use the royal loo. That’d be as close as I’ll ever get to a throne.
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You can tell what rung of the economic ladder you occupy by where you sit in an airplane. Are you up front in one of the comfy “sleeping pods” or are you waaaay in the rear of the plane with a seat back just a few inches from you nose? Who knew they could fit 64 rows of seats on an airplane? It’s surprising, but they did it. Well, if you don’t like those flying arrangements, perhaps you should have worked a little harder and paid attention in school.
While being served dinner, I asked the steward if first class has eaten yet. He said that not only have they already eaten, but the crew just sang them lullabies and they are already asleep, so please don’t make a lot of noise by clanging my plastic flatware together. Funny.