Black Friday

It's BLACK FRIDAY! That wonderful American holiday where people push, stomp, gnarl and spray pepper spray on each other for ridiculous bargains! Yay!

Oh wait! That pic was taken in London. Yep. Black Friday sales have now taken the UK by a struggling, low-class storm. Hey UK, you're welcome!




The morning started like most others. Momster growling in her bed, me pulling the earphones out of my ears. 

"I want to go to breakfast at that cafe we went to last time."

What now?

"What cafe?"

"The place we got the bacon sandwich."

"OH... the place you fussed at me saying 'why would you think I would eat THAT?' That place? Why do you want to go there?"

Wait for it...  Wait for it...

"I want to get a bacon sandwich."

Speechless? Yes, I was. 
Nevertheless, after eating about half a metric ton of wheat related product the day before, I wasn't in the mood for a serious all-you-can-eat hotel breakfast, so why not?

We get bundled up and walk the 50 meters to the little family run cafe.  The place is tiny and has about four tables in it. We were lucky enough to find one empty.

I couldn't really eat anything. I was still hurting, but mom got her bacon sandwich. I knew she would eat what she wanted and toss the dregs at me so I didn't order anything but tea.

The bacon sandwich and the ever present Diet Coke. And tea. 

Behind me there was a screaming child. 

After breakfast we hit the stores we missed going to tea the day before. We go to Waitrose to buy more Diet Coke for the hotel fridge. We wandered into Robert Dyas since I needed a new power converter. It seems my travel heating pad burns them up. Mom wandered around and found a drumstick pen.

We bring our purchases to the counter.
"How do I know this works?" She asked the guy.
"It's a pen."
I don't know what transpired thereafter since I took my converter and went to the back of the line.
I bought my converter. I don't know the fate of the pen.

We went into Boots, my favorite store to purchase some Gaviscon packets. If you're not familiar with Gaviscon, let me introduce you. It's for tummy aches. It works. I haven't seen it in the US in years. I buy some when I go to the UK. It's nasty tasting, but then all that white goop stuff is. Thankfully I don't usually need the stuff, but the little packets are convenient. It was here that we over heard a guy, presumably on his lunch break, telling everyone about the horrible fight that broke out at one of the stores for the Black Friday sales. It was 'horrid', and 'it's almost as bad as in the States.' 

I was torn between apologizing and laughing out loud. "As IF! No way Dude, the US has the monopoly on greed and consumer related rioting. Get to the back of the line!"



After an hour or two, it was nap time. We had big plans for tea that day, so a break was needed.


The afternoon arrived so we jumped into a cab and headed out.

 Where were we going? We were going to tea. Where were we going to tea? All over London, that's where!

Our meeting place was here:

                                The Sherlock Holmes Pub!  
 
We went into the pub a little early, because, obviously mom will have to use the restroom seven or eight times.

We couldn't just sit there, so drinks were ordered. I got a mulled wine, mom got a local pub beer.

 

 "Ew! Why would you drink that?" Guess who asked about my wine.

"I don't know ma, why do I do anything?"

Yeah, the fight was starting to leave me.








But it didn't matter because...

We'd booked a ride on this:

It seems that a French pastry chef decided to buy a decommissioned bus and recommission it for tours. What do you do?

You walk in and you're handed a ceramic cup of water with a tea bag. You don't get to keep the cup. But that's okay. You sit at your table that has all sorts of goodies. The bus rolls out and you have tea and watch London go by. Across from us were two Chinese girls. They were on their cell phones the ENTIRE TIME. They didn't eat their goodies or look out the window. I didn't get it. The tour was not cheap.

 I knew what I was in for. I would get the 'nasty' things, meaning the finger sandwiches, and mom would get the good stuff. And that's pretty much how it worked out. I ate the sandwiches. If I estimated correctly, it worked out to be 1 1/2 full sandwiches. My body wasn't and isn't made to consume so much stuff. Oh well.

If you're ever in London and would like something nice to do, I recommend the tour. It's cute. It really is, Maybe wait for a Groupon or Living Social deal though.

After about 1 1/2 hours of driving around, we return to our post.
The concierge at our hotel, Michal, warned us about these buses and how awful they are. There is a huge wheel well right in the middle. Guess who stepped down on it funny? Go ahead, guess.

 Not too much harm done, thankfully. And I had the box of leftovers.

We went back into the pub.

"Get me one of those wines you had." 
Okay....
Sips wine.
"This is nice isn't it?"
"I didn't notice."

We sat at a crooked table. I felt as if I were falling backward the entire time and had to keep a strong grip on my glasses.

Not me. This is Alton John.

 When the pub was nearing critical mass, I hoisted momster up and got her out. We had to catch a taxi across the street. By the time I got her there, I realized I left the goodies in the pub. I hauled it back across the street to get it. The couple at the table kept the boxes safe for me. Otherwise they were going to have a post-pub pud. Can't blame them. Those cookies were tasty!

We had to wait FOREVER for a taxi to pull up. But one did finally. We had to get back to the hotel and get to sleep, we had an early day the next morning.

So we did.
In bed.
And still my stomach hurt.


I apologize if you find this post lacking a little luster. It was fantastic, but something happened and it was all lost. :(  This was a re-do. Hopefully will be better later.