Me said, “how far is it”?  He said, “Not that far”. Our first night in London having finished a quick dinner on our way to the theater, it was dark, a little damp and we didn’t have that much time to make the curtain.  “But how much farther is it?” Me asked, a little breathless trying not to break an ankle on the slippery cobblestone streets in 4″ heels.  “Hmm, pretty soon, I think.” was what He said.  It was starting to rain. We’d been walking for 20 minutes and my hair (enough said) was starting to look as bad as my feet hurt. Pretty bad.  Very bad. Bad enough to make me mad. “I want a taxi!” Me wailed.  “But we’re almost there!” said He. “I want a taxi now!” Me cried. So we climbed into a taxi, told the driver the address and he said in a gravely serious voice, “Are you certain, Madam?”  Very well then, he drove rather slowly to the end of the very short street, rolled around the corner, stopped and said, “Here you are then, Madam” and gave He a sympathetic look and wink. Alright for the two of them with their short hair and flat shoes. When putting vanity first, you should take a taxi.