An American, age 72, is visiting London for the first time. He decides to skip the afternoon tour & 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 lads & have a pint of Guinness.
After a while, he finds himself in a very high-class neighborhood. Big, stately residences … no pubs, no stores, no restaurants & worst of all … no public toilets.
He really, really has to go, after supping all that Guinness & all the trouble with his prostate.
Ralph finds a narrow side street with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings & 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, “I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.”
“I’m very sorry, officer,” replies Ralph, “but I really, really HAVE TO GO, and I just can’t find a public restroom.”
“Ah, yes,” said the bobby, “Just follow me.”
He leads him to a back delivery alley, then along a wall to a gate, which he opens. “In there,” points the Bobbie. “Anywhere you want.”
Ralph enters & finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. There are manicured lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers.
Since he has the cop’s blessing, he unburdens himself & is greatly relieved.
As he goes back through the gate, he says to the bobby, “That was really decent of you. Is that what you call ‘British hospitality’?”
“No sir,” replied the Bobbie, “that`s what we call the French Embassy.”