My morning adventure

The context of this tale is as follows:

1.  I am currently 412 pages into the autobiography of Howard Marks, the Oxford-educated drug smuggler, who in the 1980's was Britain's Most Wanted Man.  His exploits had him traveling back-and-forth across the globe on a weekly basis.

2.  My cousin's job allows him to make deliveries all over the Southeast of England.  Today, he asked me to ride along on a trip into the City.

3.  I'm practicing both my writing and my story-telling.  It's not overly exciting, just an exaggerated explanation of my day.  So, here we go . . . (and most of it is true!)


John stopped by the Tunbridge Wells flat late this morning.  I was still half asleep, but rolled out of bed, threw on last night's clothes and brushed my teeth.  We had to make the delivery to Harrod's before 3 p.m. and the radio said there was traffic congestion on the M-25.  I climbed into the van and was immediately handed a map of London and about half a dozen pages of Google Maps printouts.  "You're navigating," said John, and away we went.
Taking the long way around, we entered London from the west and made good time along the M-4, even as it became the A-4 near Hammersmith.  We were upon Harrod's before we knew it and after a few twists and turns, we found ourselves turning into a little alley and facing a lowered gate and a tough-looking security guard.  John had all the right paperwork and the gate soon went up and we were allowed to enter the underground fortress.  One blue jumpsuit guided us into bay number six while another appeared behind us with a forklift that he made dance as he removed the three pallets of product.  Within minutes, we were on our way to the next drop.
As John drove from Harrod's to Saville Row, I tried to look at both the map and the sights.  We passed Hyde Park Corner and the Hard Rock Cafe before turning off the main road an onto a side street.  The traffic was heavy and as we couldn't get too close, John was forced to park right behind a police car and set off on foot while I waited in the van.  Just as I was getting antsy and thought I saw the same well-dressed pedestrian pass by a second time, John returned and opened up the back.  I jumped out and helped him load six large boxes onto a cart, which he pushed down the road right out in the open.  I hopped back into the van and studied the map for the quickest way out.
Just in case we were being followed, we took an indirect route out of London, crossing Westminster Bridge and then ducking back across the Tower Bridge.  A quick turn eastward and we were soon under the Thames and safely on our way home with all product delivered.  The English sun shone down upon us as we pulled into a Tesco's near home for a well-deserved lunch.

The product, by the way, was printed shopping bags.  Ha-ha!  The truth, I promise!  John works for a printing company.