“I’d do it for the banter,” Alex said, taking a swig of Guinness from his pint glass amid cheers of “Lad!” from his chums. We were packed around a small wooden table in the back of a warm little pub, escaping the grim English weather for a beer. Alex was explaining, of course, why he would have sex with the Queen, if given the opportunity. I listened on, perplexed. I thought going to England would be easy: no language barrier and therefore, no problem.
