The inquisitive one traveled to London. It was going to be an exciting adventure!
While in a crowded street market, the inquisitive one saw some postcards. “I could send these to my nephew and niece!” thought the inquisitive one, as a bunch of people jostled into the back, shoulders, and butt. When the inquisitive one went to pay for the postcards, there was a terrible realization: the credit cards, cash, phone, and passport were all missing!
Instinctively, and in a panic, the inquisitive one ran to that timelessly universal haven for inquisitive types, the public library. Frantically, the inquisitive one Googled what to do when lose passport England USA help! and scanned through some websites. Next, the inquisitive one logged into the email account and composed a message.
Here it must be noted that, due to shock and anxiety, the inquisitive one had been stricken with a psychological disorder! The inquisitive one could no longer distinguish fact from fiction, information from misinformation! Furthermore, the inquisitive one could no longer recall a single rule of spelling, grammar, or word usage! Consequently, the email read as follows:
Not knowing whom to put on the To: line, the inquisitive one sent it to every contact in the address book. Then the inquisitive one waited for a reply.
But no one replied! The inquisitive one kept checking the email for hours, but then, night fell. The library closed. The inquisitive one was forced to scrounge through trash bags for food and sleep in an alley.
The next day, the inquisitive one fell in with a band of drug dealers. But the inquisitive one, having no talent for sales, was not able to make any money. As the days passed, the inquisitive one started to despair of ever again eating something that didn’t come from a garbage bag. But then a fellow drug dealer invited the inquisitive one to, along with him, ditch the drug dealers and join a band of political agitators: which the inquisitive one gladly did.
This was a better situation because the political agitators took tea and crumpet breaks 15 or 20 times daily, which filled the belly nicely. These political agitators were pro-Brexit, or anti-Brexit, or anyway they had a very specific stance regarding Brexit. However, due to their use of incomprehensible words such as queue, quid, lift, and mummy dear, the inquisitive one was not able to determine what precisely that stance was.
Anyway, a few days after that, Fortune smiled even more happily on the inquisitive one: someone replied to the email! The inquisitive one collected $10,000 using the bank information sent by a (wonderfully kindhearted!) acquaintance, whom the inquisitive one vaguely remembered having met a couple of decades previously. Oddly, though, at the U.S. Embassy, the inquisitive one learned that, contrary to what the Internet very clearly stated, such a large sum of money was not required.
While the U.S. Embassy was working on issuing a new passport, the inquisitive one (with wonderfully kindhearted generosity!) gave the remainder of the cash, as well as the bank information, to the good drug-dealer-turned-political-agitator friend.
This friend, the inquisitive one had been astonished to learn, was Hamlet, Prince of Denmark! Well, or maybe he was Charles, Prince of Wales. In all honesty, the accents in this city were so thick that the inquisitive one could hardly understand a word anyone said. Or was he a Nigerian prince? In any case, he was a prince, but he had fallen on hard times and lost his throne. He promised to return all the money, and significantly more, to the (wonderfully kindhearted!) decades-old acquaintance of the inquisitive one, and to give the (wonderfully kindhearted!) inquisitive one a sizable pile of precious stones and jewels, once his throne was properly restored. And it surely would be restored within the next few days, due to the temporary loan of the money in the account!
The inquisitive one, strangely and sadly, lost contact with the prince at that point. But the very next day, the U.S. Embassy issued the inquisitive one a new passport! While the inquisitive one was not able to recover the lost credit cards, cash, or phone, the issuance of the new passport was a truly wondrous occurrence: and the inquisitive one’s anxiety faded away. Knowledge of spelling, grammar, and word usage returned. Also recovered was psychological sanity, including the ability to understand what was real; what was possible but unlikely; and what was rabid delusion.
MORAL: Health is better than wealth; and it’s easier, as they say in the wisest countries, to pass a needle through a camel’s eye, Amen.
Wow, Liza! This is truly amazing, engaging, and most of all, timely! You must have somehow had ME in mind, too, when you wrote this. I seem to be going through–or at least bordering on–harder times, largely because–among other things–I had lost my initial photo ID when I really needed it for (you know what) and am now suffering the consequences.
More to the point, even my own grammar has suffered a lot lately–maybe not to the same extreme as the beloved inquisitive one :)–but enough to reveal how nervous and stressed out I’ve been latel while remaining unemployed and feeling betrayed.
Besides my own dear pals, I’m especially thankful to have new friends such as yourself and other Silent Book Club members I’ve grown fond of to have my back–especially now.
Anyway, your article in itself is a fascinating account of London, England, and the potential perils of losing your passport and other identification and valuables in a foreign country. You also captured the essence, I think, of the overall class system from the drug dealers to the royalty.
I especially LOVE the scene in which the inquisitive one Googled: what to do when lose passport England USA help! I’m doing that a lot now myself because of my own current dilemma(s)!
Sorry to hear you are going through tough times, Kev. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. Things are sure to turn around for you very soon! See you soon.
I’ll admit, you had me a bit worried at the start, because it COULD have been true, except that I know you made it from England to France, and didn’t look at all concerned sitting in the Paris coffee shop, and I was not in a state of panic, and was happily aware that the Inquisitive One can be a bit dramatic! Hope all remains well as the Inquisitive One’s travels and life lessons continue.
Thank you for your concern, Eileen! You are correct, my trip so far has been lovely and thankfully free from drama, unlike the poor inquisitive one’s. š
Entertaining with a good moral!!
Thanks! š
Was the Inquisitive One on drugs? Poor thing! Maybe IO should come home soon,.
LOL, very soon . . .