mind the gap

low tide thames
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

about a month ago, i took my best friend to dinner and basically got dared into going to london with him.

"if you don't have a good time, i'll reimburse half your airfare."

"i'm sure i'll have a good time," i replied.

by desert it was all planned out.

but then i woke up the next morning and realized that my soon-to-be-expired passport would not be ready in time.

my friend was uncharacteristically quiet on the phone. "i'm a little disappointed in you," he said.

i ran around for the next three days expediting my passport. once i got it, i booked my ticket for the next day.

i hadn't been to london since the late 80s. i was looking forward to seeing how it had changed. usually on my first night overseas, when i'm jetlagged, i'll allow myself to be shown around. it's a great way to see things - being all tuckered out. but it's not long before i start asking for beers.

"let's just hop into this pub for a sec. some clients might be here," said my friend.

"sure," i replied, because i was jetlagged and agreeable.

his friends were there. we mingled. soon enough, he was catching up with a cute blonde “colleague” and i was left speaking to a guy named petey. petey had a very british way about him. i could not tell if he was having fun with me or straight out being rude.

"what's your deal, petey? why are you so cheeky?"

"i’m going to stand up…" he started, "…move to the other side of the room and go talk to my friends."

i looked at him and nodded. he, indeed, stood up, moved to the other side of the room, and started talking to his friends.

i sat alone for a while, tired and out of place, until my friend caught my eye. you okay? is what i could tell he was asking.

i rolled my eyes towards the door. he knew i wanted out.

i told him what binky, or whatever his name was, said.

"geese... maybe you misinterpreted him? british thing?"

we went to another bar where he had an altercation with the bartender over the pronunciation of "glass".


after two days, my friend went home while i stayed on for a bit. i spent the majority of my time walking around and visiting museums.

on my last night, i went out for dinner and drinks with a girlfriend and her friends at a local pub. an acquaintance of hers walked in and sat at the next table.

"mike, this is my friend krista. she's leaving tomorrow."

he turned to look at me. "she looks like the type who needs something longer."

"forget him," said my friend.

i shook my head. "let's have some champagne."

we ate our chili pockets and drank our champagne. and before we knew it, mike had joined our table and drank the rest of my friend's red wine.

he rambled on and on about his upbringing in zimbabwe and south africa while not once asking anything about anyone else. and then when the bill came, he insisted on paying.

"you're not going to pay for our drinks. our dinners!" we argued.

"please. please. it would be my pleasure."

he finally won the right to pay our bill once we got tired of arguing.

"i gotta pee," i said, standing up.

while in the bathroom, i heard the front door open and close. something didn't feel right.

i opened the door to the stall and there stood mike.

"what are you doing?" i asked, a tad bit stunned.

he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the wall.

"um, this isn't going to happen," i informed him.

"i can be very tenacious," he said.

"well, i'm headed upstairs. this isn't happening,” i shook my finger at him. “you're in the ladies room!"

"what a dirtbag!" exclaimed my friend.

"i will NOT be whored out for a friggin' taco." i downed the rest of my champagne.


i got an email a few days after i got home. apparently, mike skipped out on the bill. i mailed my friend a whack of cash to cover the meal and the booze.

does this merit half my airfare back?