an idiot in london


Thursday, 31st August.

Tonight I went out for a drink with Sam The Canadian. He's another International Star of the Ispurs soccer team. We met in Parsons Green, at a pub called the Whitehorse.

(When I told Jules that I was going to the Whitehorse, he said "Ah, the Sloane Pony! Plenty of fit there! Good luck to ya! Si, guess where LMF's going? Sloane Pony!" Si yelled out: "Good luck!")

As the nickname suggests, the Whitehorse is indeed populated by Sloanes. I tried to explain the concept of the Sloane to Sam, but it's not easy! The Sloanes were accompanied by Young Fogeys. Sam eventually cottoned on and said: "They're like chapter 12s!" You what? "You date 'em for two weeks then you file for bankruptcy." Close enough.

After some ridiculously priced drinks, we were wandering back towards the tube station when we got to another pub. I said "There's an Elvis impersonator in here tonight, let's check it out!"

The place was packed! The crowd was fully getting into it. Just as we entered he kicked off what was probably his last song, since it was nearly closing time.

We're caught in a trap
I can't walk out
Because I love you too much baby

Sam and I stood, astounded. The crowd of fifty or so people crammed into a little pub in Parsons Green was going off! As Elvis got to the chorus he pointed to us and said, "C'mon, you fellas at the back, sing it!"

We can't go on together
With suspicious minds

(Joe the Elvis impersonator plays in a pub on Parsons Green Lane every Thursday night. Opposite Parsons Green Underground station, Wimbledon branch of the District Line. Tell him that the two guys at the back who only stayed for part of a song sent ya!)