The Driver

Upon arriving in London, Nicole and I ran into another WPI London traveler, and the three of us wandered in a circle around the airport terminal looking for our ride. Upon finding the gentlemen, an extremely foreign man wearing a black suit made from the finest polyester and green baseball cap, I decided to start my London experience off on the right foot and be friendly.

"Are you here for WPI?"
He nodded.
"Well hi, I'm Luke!"
He walked away.

We were off to a good start.

But beneath his "lack-of-English-skills" exterior lived the heart of a compassionate man, I was convinced. He understood we were foreigners in this country, and deliberately got lost and drove on the incorrect side of the road to ensure we didn't feel inferior to him. It was right around this time the "American Superiority Manifest Destiny Apple Pie & Superman Freedom Explosions Boom" gene I possess kicked in and I commenced impatient sighing from the back seat like I knew better to vent my backseat driving urge, and road rage. That'll teach him.

Eventually we got to Nido Spitalfields, and walked inside the 33 story residence hall get busy living in London.