Yes Caitlin, I Got Your Feckin Cricket Bat

After years of incessant badgering by my friend Caitlin, I have finally buckled under and bought her a cricket bat, despite the fact that she has no idea how to play the game.

I hope you appreciate this, Caitlin. I had to go into a sports store in Oxford and ask for a cricket bat in a colonial accent. I felt like a total tourist! The guy behind the counter gave me an ironic English grin and said, "Oh yes, haw haw, a fine memento for your holiday, haw haw." I wanted to tell him I'm on a research trip, but I'd just sound like a tourist pretending to be a resident, which is worse than sounding like a tourist. After Lord Haw Haw was done mocking me, I slunk away with your cricket bat under my arm, and he no doubt made some witty remark to his snickering coworker about tourists.

I am not a tourist! I am Sean Bloody McLachlan, reader at the bleedin' Bodleian!!!

Note: In the above picture I'm not actually hitting a cricket ball, not having bought one for fear you'd break every window in your house. That ball is actually a football (soccer ball to you rebellious colonials) sitting in the background.

If you want your present, you'll have to sing "God Save the Queen" while standing on a table at the Thirsty Turtle, or else. . .