050.November 12


Finally I’ve made it inside BLACKFRIAR’s PUB after ten years trying. The wood work is scrumptious. The food, however, expect to be slightly less, but sitting next to a heater, drinking a hard cider, and waiting for a tuna melt, I’m quite ready to be satiated, or at least happy. Am I underdressed? I should think so. I can’t do much about the coffee stains on my trousers, rather my jeans, caused by the bakery up the street overturning my coffee in the bag it was served in. I didn’t want coffee anyway, even promised myself that I wouldn’t have any while I was here, and now it is official.

Ah, my tuna melt is visually being prepared. Next I will head for the National Theatre to meet Kehry Lane for doing who knows what. Speaking of that, who knows why I came now? I have a feeling I’ll be only a burden to my British friends, and to my health.

After my soaking by rain, I made it to the Royal National Theatre, where I purchased tickets to the new Trilogy by Tom Stoppard. I will go to that on Wednesday Nov. 20th. It lasts all day long, with three full length plays for £60. Previous to that, while waiting, I checked out the Festival Building and Theatre and the Poetry Library’s exhibition of small press literature.

But here I am, on my way to meet Brigid in Glasgow. Besides being an expensive trip, it is starting to be fun. Oh, so I met Kehry and Patras at the National Theatre, and we walked along the Thames to the Founders arms, where we talked and drank 2 pints of Young’s Bitter and A.A.A. 4.0 Bitter.

Kehry and I walked home to the hostel. I showered, and we both dressed for a night on the town, all in black, except for our shoes. We drank a pint in Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. We checked out tickets @TCKTS in Leicester Square, and then went to Strand Theatre for £10 tickets to Mrs. Warren’s Profession with Brenda Blethyn.