| I was a little apprehensive as we rented a car in the first country on our tour: England. I realized that whichever one of us was driving would really have to pay attention, knowing that they were about to be invaded by Germany again! Already, I could hear the sound of heavy traffic. This made me feel very much like an Ugly American. I pulled my beret lower over my fear of crashing. I wasn't the one driving, and I was petrified as I sat there in the passenger seat (on the left side). We sped along the unfamiliar tanks from the Russian military came rolling down the highway, the asphault crumbling under their heavy wheels! I sure didn't want to end up there! The driver was chatting incessantly and I was sure she wasn't the real tour guide. She didn't seem to know much about the countryside, nor did she know much about the practice of rounding up American tourists and pressing them into slave labor. Boy was I surprised when that cute French guy looked my way. I wonder if he speaks any English? I will be bold and ask him," Where is the bathroom? Cuz I really gotta go." But to my surprise, he snapped the cork out of the bottle of champagne out poured it on my pancakes. Famished, I dug in with reckless abandon. For dessert I asked for English Trifle, a scrumptuous dessert of whipped cream, fresh fruit, and sponge cake soaked with nervous sweat. She wasn't paying attention and drifted into the oncoming lane! We were going to collide head-on! Quickly I reached over and jerked the ripcord, and my parachute cmae hurtling out just in time! I landed hard on the bridge, got up and sat right back down because a big wad of bubble gum was stuck to the helmet of the commie soldier. I couldn't help but shut my eyes tight as our speeding car swerved completely off the prescription medication he had been taking to calm his nerves. That was a bad idea, because we landed headlong in a deep ditch full of soupy mud! THE END! |