Day 333: Shaver’s Place

Arriving in London, Laetitia arranged with a local Blue Badge Guide to take her group on a city tour. When the tour was finished, they had lunch and then walked to Shaver’s Place, a London alleyway listed as number 14 in Rude UK. As they started walking down Shaver’s Place, they passed a pub called Old Hundredth and decided to stop in for a drink. The pub was Scottish; “Old Hundredth” refers to a hymn from the Geneva Psalter based on Psalm 100 that was an integral part of the Sunday service of many Presbyterian Churches in times past. The interior of the pub was adorned with a variety of Scottish memorabilia. There was a bust of Robert Burns, a variety of tartans, painted scenes from the highlands, crossed Claymores, and posters advertising Scotch whisky from various distilleries. Laetitia sat at the bar and ordered a pint of Black Douglass Ale. While she drank it, the bartender told her a story about a Scottish couple that lived in London and were regulars at the pub. Their story became the limerick of the day.

A Scots lass walked down Shaver’s Place
And thought about men who shave face
And how she did savor
Smooth skin on a shaver
When locked in a loving embrace.

So she thought that it would be astute
To shave all her regions hirsute
Bare as when she was born
On that September morn
And imagined she would be as cute.

But when her love saw her, alas
He thought she no longer had class
For her lad from Glengarry
Preferred sporrans hairy
Especially when worn by a lass.

Then a book of Burns poems, he displayed
One with Cock Up Your Beaver portrayed
And did loudly aver
That if beavers lacked fur
There would never have been a fur trade.

But soon did the two reconcile
And once again, she did beguile
Him in her cutty sark
And they played in the dark
Just like Caesar and Queen of the Nile.