Pubs and dubs in London

After doing extensive research on British culture before leaving Indiana (I watched "Bridget Jones's Diary" and "Closer"), I arrived in London at the beginning of January expecting great things. I stood in immigration, waiting excitedly with passport in hand, and stepped up to the officer. I smiled, said hello, and waited for a response. Unfortunately, in the 10-minute quiz session that followed, the only thing I understood from his mouth was "'ello." The charming British accent I saw in the movies quickly turned annoying. Were they speaking a different language? What the heck was a queue? My class starts at 14:00? I was lost but not disenchanted. It was relatively easy to adapt to the British culture, and I quickly learned that the solution to any problem was to go to the pubs. Feeling alone? Go to the pubs. Tired of school? Go to the pubs.\nSo one night, my friends and I decided to go down to Picadilly Circus for some "problem solving." We started early, and after a few pints of beer, boarded the red double-decker bus #19 to begin our journey. Joking and laughing loudly on the bus (which is not "appropriate" in England), a very drunk British lady appeared from the top level of the bus and asked us what coast we were from in America. My friends replied one by one. "New York." "Boston." "Dallas." "Indiana." The lady replied, "Well I don't know where that last one is, but man, do I hate George Bush." She continued to drunkenly yell at us as if we were Dubya ourselves and then suddenly looked out the window, yelled, "Whoops, there goes my stop!" and jumped off the bus as it was rapidly rounding a corner. Unbelievably, she landed on her feet -- in heels -- and hurriedly made her way to Sloane Square. When we got to our destination, we stepped off the bus and went into a nearby pub. We sat down, ordered a drink and suddenly realized another person had joined our group: a British guy named Glenn. He had just gotten out of the "drunk tank" and decided to celebrate with a drink. We decided to take Glenn in as one of our own and had a much better experience than on the bus. He was fascinated to hear all about America and bought us all a round of drinks as we told our stories of home. \nWhen it was closing time, he decided to take his drink with him, hidden in the pocket of his jacket. Closing time in London is starting time at IU, though, considering the pubs shut their doors at 11 p.m. This works well for the Brits because they can still get up in the morning for work after a night out on the town. Not a bad idea, I have to admit. Now that my time in London is coming to an end, the annoyances I had when I first arrived have vanished. I'll miss the accent, the strange words, the double-decker buses and the crazy stories that can be told over a cold pint of beer at the local pub.