British Hospitality

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 lads,
and have a pint of Guinness.

After awhile, he finds himself in a very high class neighborhood.....big,
stately residences, no pubs, no stores, no restaurants, and worst of
all--NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS. He really, 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 Bobbie, who
says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know."

"I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American, "but I really, really HAVE
TO GO, and I just can't find a public restroom."

"Ah, yes," said the Bobbie. "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. "Whiz away, anywhere you want."

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
cop's blessing, he zips down, unburdens himself, and is greatly relieved.

As he goes back thru the gate, he says to the Bobbie, "That was really
decent of you. Is that 'British Hospitality'?"

"No", replied the Bobbie, with a satisfied smile on his face, "that is the
French Embassy."