French Embassy


An American tourist in London decides to skip his tour group and explore the
city on his own. He wanders around, seeing the sights, occasionally stopping
at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the locals, and have
a pint of bitter.

After a while, he finds himself in a very nice neighbourhood with big,
stately residences. No pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of all no
public restrooms.

However, he really has to go, after all those Guinness ‘s. He finds a narrow
side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides
to use the wall to solve his problem.

As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London bobby, who
says, “Sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.”

“I’m very sorry, officer,” replies the American, “but I really have to go,
and I just can’t find a public restroom.”

“Ah, yes,” said the bobby, “just follow me”. He leads the American to a back
delivery alley to a gate, which he opens.

“In there,” points the bobby, “whiz away sir, anywhere you like.”

The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever
seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and
huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom.

Since he has the policeman’s blessing, he relieves himself and feels much
more comfortable. As he goes back through the gate, he says to the bobby
“That was really decent of you. Is that what you call English hospitality?”

“No sir…”, replied the bobby, “that is what we call the French Embassy.”



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