As I sit here on the T (that’s the subway, not the sandwich, the Tube. Not that you’re a tube, I’m just saying. It’s mass-transport, look it up) en-route to Harvard, some bloke at the head of the carriage is giving it large on the ‘air’ drums. Absolutely hilarious. Full of energy, it lacks the pathos of the cardboard-cutout-banjo playing scouser who plays outside the dole in Williamson Square in Liverpool city centre.
Still, there was a real live banjo performance on the subway platform before boarding. So the rich cultural experience builds
Wow, I only wanted an egg barm!
So, I decided now that Harvard is my kind of place. Quite apart from the proliferation of sun-tanned beauty and the predominance of Apple Macbooks over PCs, which was evident from a stroll around Harvard Yard. I found a placed called Tory Row and asked for a coffee and … oh, “Can I get a sandwich?”
Boy did I get a sandwich! I got a double egg in a muffin with a secret hidden sausage … and a bowl of spiced fries. Brilliant.
I’m just loving the service culture. Here I am in Harvard square, scoffing brunch to the accompaniment of “Stuck in the Middle With You” and “Tears of a Clown’. Bonza!
I’m thinking that the marriage of the American service culture and the good-manners (sic) of the British is a marriage made in heaven. Blimey how many thank-yous can we fit in a conversation?