Done and Done, London Edition

My friend Abby and her boyfriend Pete were just the perfect hosts.

They gave suggestions without being tour Nazi’s and allowed “me time” while they ground out a living during working hours.

Maps and specific directions were left, day passes bought.

Abigail---that’s the name everyone other than me refers to her by---was even kind enough to prepare a fabulous basket for my room chock full of goodies. Let me tell you that the bottled water came in particularly handy when I had a bad case of dry mouth one night.

All in all a collective hoot and a holler.

But I can’t end my tales of London without giving a snippet of Abby’s beloved, Peter.

I had the pleasure to meet Peter about two years ago when he first came over with Abby. He’s quite everything you’d imagine a Brit to be except taller and more striking. I have to admit, the Brits I’d seen in person up to that point weren’t very physically impressive.

Wan and slightly malnourished may have been the look those kids were going for.

Then of course “heroin chic” might have been all the rage at that time.

Personally, I wanted to feed those bastards a meal and give them a blood transfusion.

Thank god Peter put all of those misconceptions to rest.

During my visit to London, Peter and I had a give and take about current goings on, American foreign policy and how to drink proper ale.

He is the one who branded me a heathen for liking all of my beer cold.

While I’m sure it’s easy to bait most people in a heated discussion, Peter simply didn’t know me well enough to get me on my soap box.

The ensuing conversations were nothing but agreement after agreement. Lots and lots of head nodding in the affirmative.

When we did disagree about something i.e. banning organized religion how to drink a beer and de-clawing cats I just looked at him and gave him my opinion.

There was no backing down on either side but then of course there wasn’t a knock down drag out either.

I’m so used to having people in my life whose opinions and choices I don’t agree with, it doesn’t even faze me anymore.

Unfortunately respecting the right to dissent in these trouble times usually reads as disloyal.

Whether your dissent is in the political, religious or our constitutional spectrum if you don’t tow the party line then you’re not a true believer.

I mean I’m not going to go up and nail 95 issues on the church door but I think we can all show basic respect when opinion collides.

Peter was no different. Plus Abby wouldn’t let us “discuss” anything controversial at length.

That Abby, always trying to put out a fire before it starts.

Then of course I never argue with people when I know I’m right. It simply leads to wrinkles.

I will say this about Mr. Pete---I suspect that there’s a bit of a temper under there. I just haven’t seen it off the leash yet.

As I stated previously he’s a thinking Brit through and through. Tall, tweedy and terrific.

Anyone who breaks out Port after a night of drinking truly has much more to offer than they’re letting on.

Nonetheless I feel that kid would throw some R’s and L’s on you if you pissed him off.

The barely perceptible ghetto side of his personality may come out if you fall on the wrong side of his temper.

Due to this (and plus it just sounds so fly), I’ve re-christened him Petey Pablo.

Plus the initial irony is just too delicious.

A Brit and a southern rapper? Honestly who could (or would) put it together?

Both Abby and Peter are a hoot. I can’t wait til they come back my way.