A funny thing happened on the way to the Underground

Funny, that is, for all those around me who witnessed it. Let’s begin the recap of my day…

London has this strange way of always looking like it just rained. You hardly ever see the rain, but the ground seems to hold this moistness that makes you grateful for your timely departure, like, “SCORE, I just missed the storm, this is going to be my lucky day!” So today began just like that. I get to the tube, my feet still damp from “the last hour’s” rainstorm, I make it to the bottom of my first flight of stairs, my shoes lose all traction, and there I go Kristi Yamaguchiing my way across the station only to land on my right shoulder, cushioned by my rather large purse. And the kicker…no one said a word! I mean I’m sure they all continued on their way to work and told the best water cooler story ever once they got there, but come on!! Granted I probably said some American profanity under my breath that completely ruined my guise as just another Brit on their way to work, but still! No one moved an inch to help remove me and my, then soaked, leather bag from the floor. I think it’s time I invest in some Wellies (Christmas present idea number 1).

I successfully made it through the rest of the day on my feet, put in a hard day’s work and was ready to head home. Completely engrossed in my 3^rd book since I’ve been here (Christmas present idea number 2), I was rounding the corner following my “Way Out” crew and it hit me! Running full speed, same height, same blindness to the crowds, only with eyes for minding the gap and making the train, a Brit…and we smacked right into each other, face to face. If it weren’t for my complete devotion to the latest twist in my book we would have landed mouth to mouth. Thank you Kindle, wasn’t really feeling like crossing off “make out with complete stranger in tube station” from my list.  

Just when I wanted nothing more than to be home, the last incident of the evening occurred. Fighting the crowd to get up and out with my newfound aggression, taking pointers from my mystery makeout man, I found my way to the front of the queue. Now, escalator rules are very strict here. It’s always stand on the right, walk on the left. No exceptions. 

So off I go, passing the long train of people standing on the right. I can’t help it but every time I choose to be one of the up-walkers rather than the standers I have this unwarranted sense of pride and accomplishment. Almost self righteous in that I am getting a workout while these lazy people just watch. (On the flip side when I am on the right, all I think is “Overachievers!”) So, nearing the top I think I’ve made it, and I’ve beat all those standers who didn’t even know they were in competition with me, and BAM! I trip over my own two feet and put myself right back at the scene of the crime from the morning, people stepping over me as they go.

Made my way straight to the pub for a well-deserved pint.

English word of the day: Pinched = Stole! So one of my colleagues came by the other day to discuss a marketing plan for one of our new data cube products. We had been discussing getting branded Rubix Cubes and he said he found one at a corporate event so he pinched it to show me. I was not sure how pinching something can help show it to me, what kind of metaphor was that? Like pinch me, to make sure I'm not dreaming? Pinch the cube to make sure it's real? Low and behold, he takes me to his office and showed me the cube in the flesh, which apparently he STOLE from the event! Got it now.

Are you ready for some football??

So for my first weekend in London I decided to do something very American. I went and saw the Chicago Bears play the TB Bucs at Wembley Stadium. I guess I decided I wasn’t entirely ready to leave the states and all that I associated with them yet.

Expecting there was no way to un-americanize American football, I met some fellow Yankees at a central tube stop and we were on our way. Welp, much to my chagrin, I was made highly aware of just how far away from home I really was. Turns out you can take the game out of the states, but with it goes most of the states! Reminders that I was, in fact, not in Kansas anymore…

1.     English people don’t really know how to tailgate. In fact I’m not even sure there was a parking lot, let along cars with large enough “boots” to become tailgates as we know them? Everyone came by public transport – this will become important later – and most fans only showed up shortly before kickoff (after visiting many a pub of course). LUCKILY, NFL to the rescue to set up the area seen below. Mind you this was taken once we had our American fill; I promise you it was packed with foreign revelers donning every team jersey in the league. Typically American of ESPN though to come and swoop in mother-ship style to impart the American knowledge and show them how to properly spectate the American game on their own turf. They even handed out beer helmets!! Ok maybe they didn’t go that far.

 

 

2.     It was weird seeing so many people root for some pretty lousy teams. And they were so invested!! AND rooting for the Bucs! It was weird, and I’m sure had a lot to do with the free paraphernalia the “home” team left in our seats, plastering them with pirate booty. I must say, however, I was quite pleased to see that anyone who owned anything NFL-related wore it to the game. It was a big NFL melting pot. I was just sad I left my Chrebet jersey at home.

3.     I’m pretty sure a majority of those at the game had no idea what was going on. Not to mention that the Bears threw a touchback in there! The collective “huh?” from the crowd was deafening.  These teams were really there to give the Brits a show. Trust me my English mates, that was a rarity. 

 

 

4.     Fantasy Football is kind of a big deal over here, and maybe that’s because betting is legal so they take it in all forms – equal opportunity betters? Even though the kids next to me had not much of a clue what was happening, they could tell me every player on the field and his stats for the past 6 weeks. Impressive.

5.     Fish and Chips at the stadium! Now that’s just silliness.

6.     Okay, and now for the most horrifying realization of them all…they used horses as crowd control. I know this doesn’t sound all that novel, if you’ve seen a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade or a Yankee Ticker Tape Celebration you have seen this technique employed. But they actually used them. More than just a scare tactic, these beasts became the turnstiles that corralled the crowd to the tube at the end of the game! And you all know how much I LOVE these larger than life, scary, crush-you-with-one-misstep animals…picture my excitement. The official attendance was announced at halftime, something to the effect of 76,868 so you can imagine all those people heading out at once destined for the same tube station to ride on trains that resemble miniature Disney monorails. Even though we caught the turnstiles in the open position, I did see one inebriated chap walk straight into the chest of black beauty, not sure if it even registered with him. Here’s a view from the good side…

If you look closely you can see the horses turned sideways blocking the crowd from moving forward.

Scary, eventful, all around great first weekend.

English word of the day: Crisps = chips of any flavor! Or “chip-ays” as someone I know lovingly refers to them.

Streets of London

In my first official, full weekend in London I was almost stiff-armed on the tube.

Here’s what happened. Leaving this really cool cocktail bar run by a couple of mates - as a sort of fun endeavor that they didn’t seem to take too seriously, but where the drinks were to die for and the pace was just right after the crazy Friday night we had where I learned first-hand about the true English drinking culture - we are walking to the tube so we could all go our separate ways and out of nowhere I hear;

“BAILEY!!!!! STIFF-ARM WATCH OUTTTT!”

Not knowing how to react to an exclamation like that I stay put and look straight ahead. Before I know it my friend physically picks me up (hernia, I’m sure) and moves me over as I see some guy come barreling through the sea of people with his arm extended and ready for battle. Who does that??? These people are nuts! But I guess they take their crowd control/tube journeys seriously.

English word of the day: Flatmates = Roommates and NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. You see, your flatmates share a flat with you….your roommates share the actual bedroom. You get the drift.