I spent two nights couchsurfing in Los Angeles, California, and didn’t even see the Hollywood sign. I did, however, enjoy an evening with an amateur dramatic group in a public library. Yes, friends, that cliché is true. Everyone in LA is an aspiring actor or actress. If anyone tells you different it’s because they want…
My host in New York City led me blindfolded to Times Square. I’d only met Mike that morning so for all I knew he was leading me the opposite direction to some underground prison where he’d do weird things to me involving coleslaw and shoelaces. But thankfully, and perhaps not surprisingly, that didn’t happen. After…
I flew over New York City in a helicopter. I’d like to say it was because Michael Bloomberg owed me a favor after I rescued his dog from being run over by a truck in Brooklyn, but it was actually just because I was so good at not spending my student loan on anything other…
I’m British. I like comedies. I especially like British comedies. But I spent one night couchsurfing in San Antonio, Texas, with a guy who knew more about British comedies than I did. From Grandma’s House to Bread via some inexplicable and awful little-known one-season abomination with a title so unimaginative I’ve completely forgotten its name,…
It was my second night in town when I went skinny dipping in Las Vegas. I checked into a hostel and, come midnight, jumped in the pool with the fabulous gay guy on shift and the semi-hot Swedish girl who was hanging around for some reason. It was almost midnight when I’d managed to make…