I was trying to remember every experience of walking home from the library, burning it into my mind, getting ready to write and share and remember the entirety of these English streets, and while lost in thoughts I was approached and propositioned by a creepy, fifty-ish, toothless, English man. While I'm sure taking a ride on this man's bike up Headington Hill would have been an interesting experience, I declined the offer, and eventually had to dart through the park in order to avoid another awkward interaction with the now waiting for me, staring at me man. Just as I rounded the street home, a group of housemates invited me to a bbq at a real English person's house, and how could I do anything but accept the offer to integrate with real natives?!
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