Imagine… four people: three Americans, one Scot… on their way to the 24-hour McDonald’s. Laughing, looking left instead of right, just strolling along to the golden arches, which are calling. Walk to the doors, pull, pull harder, read sign, one sign says 6am to 11pm, banner says 24 hours, needless to say confusion crosses all faces. Then, ah-ha! Brilliance, you have to go through the drive-thru after 11pm. Problem… we haven’t got a car! No problem! We’ll walk through the drive-thru! Get to the window the guy is friendly, helpful, even gathers the correct change from my friend’s hand. He laughs. Says have a good night. No questions. No rolling eyes. No managers yelling. Amazing.
The people love to laugh in England. A man was watching today as I escorted three of the boys to the toilets. They came out rather quickly, “Did you wash your hands?” I asked. They stopped dead in their tracks and with their faces full of shame; they turned around and marched right back into the toilet. The man spoke to me, relaying how hilarious the scene seemed to him as well. Perfect stranger, but it didn’t matter. He shared that moment of humor with me, the boys, and later he told the story to his wife.
Great people. From the guy in charge of punting the boat down the river, who gave a smile and told a few good jokes, to the sweet shop owner, who I didn’t even talk to, but who offered to refill our groups’ forty-two water-bottles- and to the sweet old gentleman I met in the hall who asked me if I worked at the hotel because I looked in charge talking with the students; he needed a different room key. I saw him later and he asked if I got everything sorted. People seem to care. They love a “laugh” and I love the English. England may not be known for their hospitality, but someone ought to reconsider.
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