London Reign

We’re mingling at the Hub Buzz event when a waiter approaches me.

“Am I going to be able to I tempt you tonight?”

I look at his tray and shake my head.

“Um, no, I’m vegetarian.”

Poor waiter boy. He’s devastated, and clearly, he is not acquainted with a nose trimmer. He looks at his tray full of hors d'oeuvres and frowns.

“Well, I’m packing a lot of meat, as you can see.”

Um. Awkward silence follows. Then the Crown Prince of Nose Hair tries to strike up a conversation about the difference between vegetarianism and veganism. Sigh. Crown Prince, it’s not happening. Seriously.

Later, Robot J and I pop into a convenience store for snacks.

“Oooh is this chocolate mint?” I say, checking out a chocolate bar. Here I am, with access to REAL European chocolate, and I’m fascinated by a Nestle product. A random man decides that I should have said Nestle chocolate bar and actually buys it for me. Yay London!

We leave the party around 11. Since the pubs are closed and Cayenne and I have lost our ability to walk in our party shoes, we head back to the hotel. Portia finds out where we can hang out post-pub-closing time and we end up at a rather bumpin’ salsa bar. Cayenne is accosted immediately upon entering, and Robot J looks pretty uncomfortable. Okay, he’s not happy. At all.

Oh my, who’s this? We find a very tall man we’ll call Lurch and his friend Hollandaise are attempting to salsa. But who can salsa with a six-foot-seven straight man? He decides to take Portia for a spin, and I grab his friend Hollandaise. I’m told we create quite the stir. She’s one of the best dance partners I’ve ever had!

“Golddigger” comes on and it’s too good to resist. Cayenne and I take a turn on the floor and Robot J is out there too, shaking his tail feather. Alas, Portia is sleepy and hungry so it’s time to roll. Egg roll, that is. We end up at a Chinese restaurant at close to two a.m. Someone orders what I think is Moo Goo Gai Pan. That’s the one with the little Chinese tortillas, right? This prompts me to launch a discussion about Tortillas of the World. I argue that every culture and cuisine has one. We discuss pitas, naan, scones, crumpets, croissants, matza—basically it’s a Carb Love Fest and I am happy, indeed. The one thing we cannot decide upon is the American Tortilla. Hamburger bun, hot dog bun, biscuit, or perhaps…Wonder Bread?

Our next topic of discussion involves whether or not a rap song is an actual song. Turns out Robot J is not a fan of “Golddigger.”

“A song requires singing, not talking, and rapping is talking, not singing.”

In my slightly inebriated state, I am confused. And messy. I have littered rice and soy sauce around my plate. Ahhh, is it time to go home yet?

-Shakira 11.22.05