When You Have To Go, You Have To Go
An American tourist in London decides to skip his tour group
and explore the city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the
sights, and occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up
the local culture, chat with the lads, and have a pint of beer.
After awhile, he finds himself in a very high-class neighborhood
with big, stately residences—no pubs, no stores, no restaurants,
and worst of all, no public restrooms. He really, really has
to go, especially after all those beers.
He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding
the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve
his problem.
As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London
Bobbie, who says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that
here, you know."
"I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American,
"but I really, really have to go, and I just can't find
a public restroom."
"Ah, yes," said the Bobbie, "just follow me."
He leads him to a back delivery alley, then along a wall to
a gate, which he opens. "In there," points the Bobbie.
"Whiz away, anywhere you want."
The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden
he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains,
sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in
perfect bloom. Since he has the cop's blessing, he unburdens
himself and is greatly relieved.
As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobbie, "That
was really decent of you. Is that British hospitality?"
"No," replied the Bobbie, with a satisfied smile
on his face, "That is the French Embassy."
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