I was a werewolf in London...

by Sean Chercover

I just flew back from London, and boy are my arms tired. (Almost as tired as that joke.)

Anyway. London was fantastic.

After arriving in London, the first thing I did was buy a long distance card. Then I phoned The Mouse and told him that I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand, walking through the streets of Soho in the rain.

He replied, "Ah-oooh! Werewolves go to London."

For those who are Zevon-impaired, this is what we're talking about:

Werewolves of London (or, as The Mouse calls it, Werewolves Go To London) is still in his top-5, although the Dance Like A Monkey has recently taken over the #1 spot. I posted that video last time, so I'll not do it...

Ah, screw it. Here's Dance Like A Monkey...



Where was I? Oh yeah, London. Right...

Didn't actually see a werewolf, but I did see many nice people. The CWA folks were very kind, the beer was great, and I even bought a Barbour wax cotton raincoat. Like this. Always wanted one. They're on sale at the Chelsea store right now for only 80 pounds, so rush right down.

Anyway.

I rode around the Underground a lot. London has an excellent subway system. And maybe it's my inner 10-year-old, but I giggled every time they announced "this is the train to Cockfosters."

Tried to find a Cockfosters t-shirt, but had to settle for MIND THE GAP. Next time, I'm not leaving without a Cockfosters t-shirt.


The lovely Catherine Burke (senior editor at Mira UK) and I had "a spot of afternoon tea" at this place. The scones were outta sight.

I stopped for a drink at the Rivoli Bar in the Ritz hotel. Took a seat in the back corner and ordered a Salty Dog. The waiter didn't know what that was. I said, "A Greyhound with a salted rim." He said, "Greyhound?" I said, "Vodka, grapefruit juice, ice. Salted rim." He looked askance, said, "Salt on the rim of the glass?"

Then he told me to put my jacket back on.

Ugly American.

Werewolf in London.