The Anglophile Read Online Free Page B

was. Remember how we spun out fifteen miles before getting to the stadium?”
    â€œRemember it? Gary—we almost died. ”
    Gary’s laughter subsides after a glance toward the stool behind the window where his little lady friend is perched. “Shit, listen guys, I have to get back to that chick. Digging me, big time. I just wanted to refund your cocoa, Miss S. When you’re in Chi-town you don’t pay.”
    â€œToo late, my new friend has already offered to pay.”
    Gary barely contains himself, but keeps his commentary to a knowing smile. The Brit is expressionless again, but I suspect we’re his entertainment for the day.
    â€œI’ll be over by the window, but first I have to take another horse piss. Give me a minute to finish the job, and then come over and join us.”
    â€œHe’s a bit off-color, but he’s a wonderful pal,” I say when Gary’s out of earshot again. “We lived a few doors down from each other in my college back east—”
    â€œAh, ah, ah. Never apologize for school chums. My mate Reece was almost sent down fresher year for streaking. Cost his father plenty quid to keep him there. Took the committee a week to take a decision on that. His old man had to cough up an endowment to keep him through to tripos. But he was a good bloke all the same.”
    He chuckles out loud, and I laugh too even though I haven’t the faintest clue who or what tripos is. There’sone more rollicking memory of his school days: “Bloody Andy served everybody drinks with fish ice at our last reunion.”
    â€œFish ice? Is that another British expression?”
    A laugh. “No, just the ice that fish gets shipped in. Salmon fish ice it was. Nasty stuff.”
    I bet Gary would enjoy hearing about these fellow pranksters, but he has returned from the bathroom and right now he’s having a fine time ogling the contours of the blonde’s blinding white sweater.
    â€œSo, you’re from New York City,” he says.
    â€œYes, I’m living there again. Gary’s also a New Yorker, by the way, from Bensonhurst—that’s a part of Brooklyn. You can ask him about Knicks games. That’s his secondary team.”
    â€œI’m going to New York after Chicago; never been.” My unprotected heart jumps at the news. Boyfriend, boyfriend, I tell myself as he continues, “Had to add a few days on, of course. How can you come to America and not see New York?”
    â€œYou’ll love it. And trust me, Downtown needs your pounds to rebuild.” I’m blushing a bit as I sneak another face-saving look toward the front of the line. What is taking so long? We’re ordering donuts here, not steaks. How many boxes of donut holes has that man ahead of us ordered?
    â€œMaybe you could show me around?”
    This time I look him straight in the eyes. “Of course I will.” Did I just say that? It sounds like we just made a date. Is offering to tour-guide a man you’d love to kiss cheating?
    â€œWonderful.”
    He smiles at me and I smile at him, and the sudden silence threatens to ruin our vibe.
    â€œYou know, when you used the word college before, it occurred to me that in England, college is usually what I think you call high school here. Well, except in Oxbridge. Oh sorry, you probably wouldn’t know that term. It means—”
    â€œSo did you go to Oxford or Cambridge?”
    After an amused glance he says, “Cambridge.”
    â€œWhich college?”
    â€œYou know the colleges?”
    â€œA few of them. Try me.”
    â€œTrinity.”
    â€œWhere Isaac Newton was a student, right?”
    â€œIndeed, the very one.”
    â€œIndeed,” I mimic his accent, this time out loud.
    â€œNext!” The combination of the cashier’s blond hair, large lips and huge torso make him look quite a bit like a bodybuilder duck.
    â€œWhat can I get my new friend here?” the