In olden days, they navigated by the light of the stars. Today, we find our way by the wifi of the Starbucks.
Thusly, Luke and I calculated and recalculated our caffeinated route to Buckingham Palace, where we went to have tea with Queen. We arrived at four o’clock sharp, only to be told by a stern man in a ridiculous hat that no, we could not have tea with the Queen, “she is very busy,” and would we please leave? Heartbroken, we turned back and sat on the Victoria Memorial to mope.
View of Buckingham Palace from the Victoria Memorial
“For the Royal Guard,” Luke said, “they don’t look very scary.”
Not very scary
“At some point in this country’s history,” I said, “some shmuck must’ve said ‘Hey! Do you know what will strike fear into the hearts of our foes? Big poofy hats!’”
“Yes,” Luke agreed, “and oversized trousers!”
“I bet we could take him,” I said, heart still set on biscuits with Her Majesty.
“Wanna make a run for it?” asked Luke.
We looked at the guards. We looked at their hats. We looked at the gate. We looked at their L85A2 Assault Rifles.
“Perhaps not.”
If a poofy hat is an invitation to mess with somebody, an automatic weapon is a fairly effective deterrent.
Poofy hat, deadly weapon
We gave up. I suppose you have to be more important to have tea with the Queen. At the very least, you must need an appointment.
“Maybe once I’ve had a book published,” I said, a bit dejected, as Luke and I went off to find someone less royal to have tea with.
Fortunately, it is impossible to simultaneously feel sad and eat pie, and in this country, pie comes in savory! Much pie was had, and we soon felt much better.
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