Where doing a lap is literally doing a lap

Ok, this has nothing to do with London but I do have to mention that I picked up the Green Lion Edition of Voltron on DVD this week and I know of no better way to celebrate than by posting a picture of the lion that I will pilot as part of my dream job. While the Green Lion does not carry with it the leadership qualities of the Red Lion, nor the serenity of the Blue Lion, nor the overall awesomeness of the Black Lion it is easily the most environmentally conscious of the five lions and that is really hip right now. Plus, it is so much cooler than the Yellow Lion, which they might as well repaint given how silly it looks. Seriously, who would want to pilot a Yellow Lion? The only reason they keep it around is because they for some reason need it to form Voltron.

(Of course, just to upset me this is apparently the Pidge edition of the collection as well. Because apparently it is a law that the elite galactic fighting force have a whiny kid as a part of the team.)

Ok, time to finish off the London stories, though I may post a few more pictures later this week. One of the things that I had been meaning to mention is that just walking through London is a completely different experience than I usually have. Partly it is the fact that there is just this mass of people that never seems to go away. I think that spending the past few years in Kansas City has made me forget what crowds are like. I worked in downtown Chicago for years so I know what it is like to be in the midst of thousands of people walking in the same direction. Still, there just seems to be so many more people in London, all seemingly dressed in the latest fashions. Even if they by no right should be wearing them. You tend to go, “Wow, that woman is beautiful…ow my eyes! The goggles, they do nothing!”

The other point is just the sheer number of languages you hear as you walk down the street. That’s something you just don’t experience while trapped in Middle America. Here, if someone isn’t speaking English you have a horrible tendency to want to turn around and go “What the hell is your problem.” There is just something cool about hearing the languages of the world while you are making your way to the train.

And finally, after much delay, the longest bar story. While checking out the information in my hotel room (because when you don’t have any luggage you have to find ways to amuse yourself) I discovered that my hotel housed The Longest Bar in England. They were very proud of this fact. So I’m sitting in my hotel room thinking to myself, “I guess that I have to go down and have a drink. How many people can say that they’ve had a beer at The Longest Bar in England?”

To which I replied…

“Probably a lot of people. The bar is quite long.”

(Sadly, due to budget cuts I was by myself and therefore had to provide both sides of the witty conversation. And it does continue my trustworthy habit of being incredibly funny when there is no one around to appreciate it.)

So I make my way down to the bar and they aren’t kidding, it is a freaking long bar. Like a good forty yards long. There are about five people sitting at the bar, all at one end next to all of the staff. I look at the situation and I have to say that I was tempted to sit at the exact middle of the bar and be a good sixty feet away from the nearest patron and bartender in the process. Part of me thought that would look anti-social and cool, part of me thought that it would result in a bottle being thrown at my head by a bartender who didn’t want to walk that far.

In the end I sat down next to everyone else, thus showing that having The Longest Bar in England is rather inefficient. All told, we were taking up less space than The Backer. I also discovered that The Longest Bar in England does not have any beer on tap, which just astounds me. You pay to put in a bar, measure it to ensure that it has a greater length than any other establishment in the country, and you can’t be bothered to install a friggin tap? In a country that prides itself on ales and lagers? I ordered a Guinness and had it poured out of a can, which is something that I did not need to go to The Longest Bar in England to enjoy. I guess it’s true what they all say; size really doesn’t matter.