Wednesday, 25 March 2009

A night in jail

Oh sweet Mary mother of Jesus. You would not believe what I have just been through, but let me tell you first up that it was neither cute nor cool (words I believe you are legally required to start using when blogging from the States).

Yesterday started well enough. A couple of briefings with American umbrella devotees then back to the bed and breakfast (we're really staying in a 5 star hotel but don't tell the members, eh?). We are only a few blocks from the White House but I haven't as yet seen it. I am then faced with a dilemma - all you can eat hotdog lunch or a trip to an iconic building? As choices go this is Hobsons, and 14 sausages and 3 litres of mustard later, I am gently snoozing. We have all seen the White House on the telly and how whiter can it really look in real life?

I am tempted to have my photograph taken sticking my tongue out at the Roosevelt Memorial - chancer President who got lucky by seeming to react to a recession (Cameron, take note) but frankly I can't be arsed.

By the time I wake up it is time for Fab Jobsworth and I to go for dinner with some dreary American academic (beard, naturally) who doesn't even bother wearing a tie. He does have some interesting points to make about strategic planning and I prod Fab with my knife to make sure he is listening. Except, I mistakenly use my steak knife and stab him just below the rib cage. Blood everywhere and pandemonium. The police are called and I am hauled off by the cops on a charge of attempted murder.

I protest my innocence of course, and Fab does rouse himself from his semi-coma to slur something about it being an accident but it don't cut no ice with the DC cops. My cell is frankly squalid, only fit for criminals, and I naturally refuse the offer of a lawyer. When Bogg is covered in shit, only Bogg can flush it away.

The night is endless and one repeated concern keeps flashing through my mind. Will they let me keep the Blackberry so I can blog from within Guantanamo Bay?

Fortunately, Fab is fine and when he comes round explains that it was really all an accident and I was released this morning. I suspect that Barack had a quiet word as well to oil the wheels of justice. I have been asleep all day and am just about now recovered, but what an experience.


  1. Robin, have you noticed that the umbrellas in the US are different from the UK? I am told as a whole they have much bigger canopies; much thicker handles; and many have a labour saving motor to open up the canopy. Anything umbrella makers in the UK can learn here?

  2. Thanks for your feedback Karl. What I have noticed is that when Americans can be bothered to leave their cars and shopping malls, their umbrellas have more bigger carriers (hence the larger canopy) and much thicker owners. Who said stereotyping was dead?