on one’s head. The diameter of the holes in
the shower head was quite large. A shower at Claridges was like
standing in a summer rain. Each room had three buttons on the
wall. They were for maid, butler, and valet. I had in previous
trips the occasion to use each of them. They brought a guest
everything from room service to tailoring. My luggage was in the
room when I got there. Try to beat that in America. Of course,
no one was standing around for a tip, either. After the usual
showing of amenities, the young man departed. I took two
aspirins and stood under the hot shower for about fifteen
minutes. I had pushed the butler button before entering the
shower and when I re-entered the room there was a bucket of ice
and glasses on a tray. I poured myself a large vodka on the
rocks and turned on the telly. I sat there in my terry robe,
drinking and watching the BBC News. I intended to wait until
midnight London time and call Ann Marie. I was sitting in a
comfortable chair with a large hassock and I felt myself getting
drowsy. I put down the drink and dozed off in the chair. When I
awoke, I thought I was in bed in St. Tropez and reached out for
Jane’s body. When I opened my eyes and found myself sleeping in
a chair in London, I was terribly depressed. I looked at my
watch. It was three a.m. This was the perfect time to call Ann
Marie. It was nine o’clock in New York. During our daylight
savings time, there is a six-hour difference in time instead of
the usual five. I direct-dialed her number and it rang about
twenty times before I gave up. I was distraught and even
somewhat angry when I couldn’t get her. I tried every half hour
for about two hours until I fell asleep on the bed from sheer
exhaustion.
I awoke at ten a.m. It was still a bit too early to try
Ann Marie again so I decided to call her about one o’clock London
time. I don’t drink in the morning so I had to find another way
to cope with my depression. I took another hot, delightful
shower and shaved. The weather in London was about sixty-two
degrees and sunny so I dressed in a glen-plaid sports jacket,
white shirt, Argyle and Sutherland-highlanders regimental tie,
and grey flannel slacks. The tie was British with the stripes
slanting “from the heart” as opposed to American ties which slant
in the other direction. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was
tanned from my time on the Riviera and looked extremely well. I
immediately equated this with my attractiveness to women before I
remembered my recent vow of celibacy. I decided to look up some
British friends while I was here that I considered safe for me.
First and foremost, I was starving and was looking forward to
breakfast.
I picked up a copy of the Herald-Tribune and sat at a
table in the main dining room which overlooked a garden. I
purposely sat facing the window so that I would not indulge in my
usual habit of scanning the room for available women. I had yet
another English, high-cholesterol, high-fat breakfast, consisting
of eggs, sausages, and toast with great gobs of butter and
marmalade. The coffee was comparable to American coffee and was
my first great cup of coffee since arriving in Europe. After
breakfast I returned to my room to brush my teeth and freshen up
before my day began. I was particularly interested in contacting
one of the most interesting gentlemen I had ever met in my world—
wide travels. I had been to London on several occasions to
address associations of businessmen and other groups. I was in
constant demand as a lecturer on business management. My books
were widely read in Great Britain and I am somewhat of a
household name in the field. In 1981, I had lectured at the
University of London. The convention I was addressing ended with
a kind of farewell dinner. The principal speaker at the dinner
was a Professor John Dinsmore, a well-known writer and teacher in
the field of philosophy. Julie and I expected to be
the shower head was quite large. A shower at Claridges was like
standing in a summer rain. Each room had three buttons on the
wall. They were for maid, butler, and valet. I had in previous
trips the occasion to use each of them. They brought a guest
everything from room service to tailoring. My luggage was in the
room when I got there. Try to beat that in America. Of course,
no one was standing around for a tip, either. After the usual
showing of amenities, the young man departed. I took two
aspirins and stood under the hot shower for about fifteen
minutes. I had pushed the butler button before entering the
shower and when I re-entered the room there was a bucket of ice
and glasses on a tray. I poured myself a large vodka on the
rocks and turned on the telly. I sat there in my terry robe,
drinking and watching the BBC News. I intended to wait until
midnight London time and call Ann Marie. I was sitting in a
comfortable chair with a large hassock and I felt myself getting
drowsy. I put down the drink and dozed off in the chair. When I
awoke, I thought I was in bed in St. Tropez and reached out for
Jane’s body. When I opened my eyes and found myself sleeping in
a chair in London, I was terribly depressed. I looked at my
watch. It was three a.m. This was the perfect time to call Ann
Marie. It was nine o’clock in New York. During our daylight
savings time, there is a six-hour difference in time instead of
the usual five. I direct-dialed her number and it rang about
twenty times before I gave up. I was distraught and even
somewhat angry when I couldn’t get her. I tried every half hour
for about two hours until I fell asleep on the bed from sheer
exhaustion.
I awoke at ten a.m. It was still a bit too early to try
Ann Marie again so I decided to call her about one o’clock London
time. I don’t drink in the morning so I had to find another way
to cope with my depression. I took another hot, delightful
shower and shaved. The weather in London was about sixty-two
degrees and sunny so I dressed in a glen-plaid sports jacket,
white shirt, Argyle and Sutherland-highlanders regimental tie,
and grey flannel slacks. The tie was British with the stripes
slanting “from the heart” as opposed to American ties which slant
in the other direction. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was
tanned from my time on the Riviera and looked extremely well. I
immediately equated this with my attractiveness to women before I
remembered my recent vow of celibacy. I decided to look up some
British friends while I was here that I considered safe for me.
First and foremost, I was starving and was looking forward to
breakfast.
I picked up a copy of the Herald-Tribune and sat at a
table in the main dining room which overlooked a garden. I
purposely sat facing the window so that I would not indulge in my
usual habit of scanning the room for available women. I had yet
another English, high-cholesterol, high-fat breakfast, consisting
of eggs, sausages, and toast with great gobs of butter and
marmalade. The coffee was comparable to American coffee and was
my first great cup of coffee since arriving in Europe. After
breakfast I returned to my room to brush my teeth and freshen up
before my day began. I was particularly interested in contacting
one of the most interesting gentlemen I had ever met in my world—
wide travels. I had been to London on several occasions to
address associations of businessmen and other groups. I was in
constant demand as a lecturer on business management. My books
were widely read in Great Britain and I am somewhat of a
household name in the field. In 1981, I had lectured at the
University of London. The convention I was addressing ended with
a kind of farewell dinner. The principal speaker at the dinner
was a Professor John Dinsmore, a well-known writer and teacher in
the field of philosophy. Julie and I expected to be
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