trouser press

I am sitting in an internet cafe in the airport in London awaiting the chance to use my free ticket to the city. I had almost an hour to kill and choose to check out shops, grab a water, and while walking by the cafe, I spotted a gorgeous man using the computers so I am currently sitting three computers away sending out a vibe. He has noticed me yet. The flight over was smooth and I worked a wonderful potition with a great galley person. Before I knew it we were landing and jumping on a bus. I was super excited to add a stamp to my passport and was very upset to find out that we in fact bypass customs and go straight to our hotel. Boo-Hiss!!!! I want a stamp damn it! I am too excited to go sightseeing to sleep and no one else on the crew shares my enthusiasm so my free ticket and I are hitting the train, map in hand, and checking out all this British stuff. Our hotel is pretty nice and within walking distance which means we don't have to tip anyone for handling our luggage. The word on the street is that the crew lounge is the happening place to be, so that is where I will be tonight. There is one strange thing in the room, a trouser press. Carol would be proud of me for throwing my shorts in there and getting the wrinkles out. Okay, the hot guy left...my time is up here. Watch out London, here I come!!