After a while, he finds himself in a very high-class area...big, stately residences... no pubs, no shops, no restaurants, and worst of all... NO PUBLIC TOILETS. He really, really has to go, after all those pints of Guinness.
He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings and decides to use the wall to solve his problem. As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London Bobbie, who says, "I say, sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know."
"I'm very sorry, officer," replies the American, "but I really, really HAVE TO GO, and I just can't find a public toilet."
"Ah, yes," said the Bobbie, "Just follow me".
He leads him to a back "delivery alley", then along a wall to a gate, which he opens.
"In there," points the Bobbie. "Whiz away SIR, anywhere you want."
The fellow enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statuary, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom. Since he has the cop's blessing, he unburdens himself and is greatly relieved.
As he goes back through the gate, he says to the Bobbie "That was really decent of you... is that what you call "British Hospitality?"
"No sir", replied the Bobbie, "that is what we call the