Things my father would hate about London:
For those of you who have the privilege of knowing Ron Brubeck, you know he likes to complain a lot. He likes to complain about his service at a restaurant, traffic and my inability to clean my car. London would kill him(or possibly my mother from annoyance).
He’d complain that they don’t put ice in his drinks and say, “Do they expect me to drink this warm?”
He’d complain about the lack of trash cans.
He’d complain about all the dust getting in his eyes because London is a very dusty city. My mom would snap at him with, “Oh Ron, there is dust in everyone’s eyes. Hell, there’s dust in my eyes. Suck it up.”
While riding a double decker bus, he would complain about how tired his legs are walking to the top floor.
He’d complain about the rain.
And when it’s not raining, he’d complain about carrying his umbrella around. He’d say it might as well rain if I’m going to carry this stupid umbrella.
Then there are the prices. I won’t get started on that one.
There would be too many people on the tube. Then he would complain that their is no air conditioning and say, “Aren’t these people civilized? My God!”
At some point he’d step out in traffic, almost get hit by a car and then complain that if they didn’t drive on the wrong side of the road, his ignorance wouldn’t be a problem.
He wouldn’t complain about the beer.
He’d order fish and chips. In London, chips are actually french fries. When his food arrives, he’d say, “Ahhh man, this isn’t what I meant to order!”
And when it’s all said and done, he’d complain that it was over.
Love you Dad, despite what this blog might prevail. I was drinking a soda today with no ice and I thought about how angry it would make you.
I’ll try and add more photos tomorrow. It’s 1.24am my time.
