28 May 2007
Story #181
R. Linda:
Ah, the memories—they are coming back. I should have kept a better journal, but the bits come as I reread some of me more prominent adventures. With this frame of mind, let me continue with some lesser moments.
It was after the hotel's bizarre water system revelation and after the "child" with the salami in her underwear situation that we came to the Windsor odd event. That afternoon of the same day as the salami situation, I wanted to see Windsor Castle because I'd seen it when I was very young and for old times' sake. I whined about it until me two companions decided the only way to shut me gob was to take me there. This they did. We borrowed Weasil's father's automobile and set off in style. A Bentley in the hands of Weasil is a strange thing to see. But I digress. We set off in the direction of said castle.
We drove in style through a few small towns not far outside London when I saw a somewhat overgrown grassy park that went on for miles before me. I knew we were not far from the sainted castle. Then suddenly before me was the castle proper way up the park lawns, looking like something out of a faerytale. The green lawns were almost as emerald as I remembered back home. I pointed like a child and shouted from the backseat, "There it is!"
"Nup, nup, nup," Weasil said, "dat dere is Cinderelli's castle. We're in Disneyland UK, Gabe. " Then he laughed at his stupid joke.
I wanted to hit him in the back of the head, but he was driving and knowing him, we'd have that Bentley smashed into a tree, and it would be my fault. What a buffoon was all I could think as I took in the wonder of the castle getting closer and closer. Jordie was looking out the passenger side window, one hand holding up his head, which told me he was finding Weas annoying and probably thinking of all the other things he could be doing Weasil-free in London.
As we were pulling up into the park area, police stopped us. All illusions of fantasyland broke into a million fragments as me heart sunk to me boots, thinking, oh no, this can't be happening, it's the salami thing, or worse, Weasil's father reported his expensive motor missing, and we were about to spend the rest of holiday in the nick.
Jordie rolled down his window as Weasil went rummaging for car insurance, license, and what-have-you while I sat in the back with my eyes closed, feigning sleep. I just couldn't put up with another session of this crazy stuff that seemed to follow Weasil anywhere he went.
"Hello! Have you, by any chance, seen a van around here? " the officer asked, pleasant-faced.
"Uh, what kind of van?" Jordie asked, confused.
"Well, if I told you that, I'd be giving pertinent information to the public, " the man said.
Jordie sighed heavily and said, " How can I help you if I don't know what kind of van it is?"
"Well, it is a stolen van," the officer replied.
Jordie looked over his shoulder at me and whispered, "Is it me, or am I dealing with morons today?"
I shook me head, eyes half closed, in an "I don't know" fashion because I was thinking I actually was in fantasyland.
"I'm Sorry, constable. I have seen vans along the way, but I don't know if any were stolen," Jordie said pleasantly.
The officer leaned his arms on the door, his voice low and personal. "I know it seems bloody inconvenient, but you see, we are handicapped in the search for the thing because Special Branch doesn't want the public to know what the bloody thing looks like. Do ya see?"
I know it took all of the resolve Jordie had in his body not to burst out laughing, "Ah, and so it 'tis constable. They cannot issue a description of it. Aye, and so it is. Sorry, we can't be more help."
The officer straightened up and gave us a small salute before sending us on our way.
Once we were well out of the officer's sight, we burst into gales of laughter that continued throughout the rest of the day. I swear people must have thought we were escapees from the loony bin the way we'd be fine one moment and in stitches the next. Sadly, that is all I can remember of the highlights of seeing Windsor Castle. It be a blur all but the laughter and that's not such a lousy ting (thing). I know these are not uproarious funny to you, but you needed to be there for sure.
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Ah, the memories—they are coming back. I should have kept a better journal, but the bits come as I reread some of me more prominent adventures. With this frame of mind, let me continue with some lesser moments.
It was after the hotel's bizarre water system revelation and after the "child" with the salami in her underwear situation that we came to the Windsor odd event. That afternoon of the same day as the salami situation, I wanted to see Windsor Castle because I'd seen it when I was very young and for old times' sake. I whined about it until me two companions decided the only way to shut me gob was to take me there. This they did. We borrowed Weasil's father's automobile and set off in style. A Bentley in the hands of Weasil is a strange thing to see. But I digress. We set off in the direction of said castle.
We drove in style through a few small towns not far outside London when I saw a somewhat overgrown grassy park that went on for miles before me. I knew we were not far from the sainted castle. Then suddenly before me was the castle proper way up the park lawns, looking like something out of a faerytale. The green lawns were almost as emerald as I remembered back home. I pointed like a child and shouted from the backseat, "There it is!"
"Nup, nup, nup," Weasil said, "dat dere is Cinderelli's castle. We're in Disneyland UK, Gabe. " Then he laughed at his stupid joke.
I wanted to hit him in the back of the head, but he was driving and knowing him, we'd have that Bentley smashed into a tree, and it would be my fault. What a buffoon was all I could think as I took in the wonder of the castle getting closer and closer. Jordie was looking out the passenger side window, one hand holding up his head, which told me he was finding Weas annoying and probably thinking of all the other things he could be doing Weasil-free in London.
As we were pulling up into the park area, police stopped us. All illusions of fantasyland broke into a million fragments as me heart sunk to me boots, thinking, oh no, this can't be happening, it's the salami thing, or worse, Weasil's father reported his expensive motor missing, and we were about to spend the rest of holiday in the nick.
Jordie rolled down his window as Weasil went rummaging for car insurance, license, and what-have-you while I sat in the back with my eyes closed, feigning sleep. I just couldn't put up with another session of this crazy stuff that seemed to follow Weasil anywhere he went.
"Hello! Have you, by any chance, seen a van around here? " the officer asked, pleasant-faced.
"Uh, what kind of van?" Jordie asked, confused.
"Well, if I told you that, I'd be giving pertinent information to the public, " the man said.
Jordie sighed heavily and said, " How can I help you if I don't know what kind of van it is?"
"Well, it is a stolen van," the officer replied.
Jordie looked over his shoulder at me and whispered, "Is it me, or am I dealing with morons today?"
I shook me head, eyes half closed, in an "I don't know" fashion because I was thinking I actually was in fantasyland.
"I'm Sorry, constable. I have seen vans along the way, but I don't know if any were stolen," Jordie said pleasantly.
The officer leaned his arms on the door, his voice low and personal. "I know it seems bloody inconvenient, but you see, we are handicapped in the search for the thing because Special Branch doesn't want the public to know what the bloody thing looks like. Do ya see?"
I know it took all of the resolve Jordie had in his body not to burst out laughing, "Ah, and so it 'tis constable. They cannot issue a description of it. Aye, and so it is. Sorry, we can't be more help."
The officer straightened up and gave us a small salute before sending us on our way.
Once we were well out of the officer's sight, we burst into gales of laughter that continued throughout the rest of the day. I swear people must have thought we were escapees from the loony bin the way we'd be fine one moment and in stitches the next. Sadly, that is all I can remember of the highlights of seeing Windsor Castle. It be a blur all but the laughter and that's not such a lousy ting (thing). I know these are not uproarious funny to you, but you needed to be there for sure.
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
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