Travel Lesson No. 2: Beware Sexy Brits

My British friend Shannon, who was living in New York, had a brother, Andrew, and I felt instant chemistry with him. This isn’t saying much, because—so cliché— I love a British accent. We interacted for about six minutes and exchanged e-mail addresses. Andrew went back to London.

We e-mailed ravenously and flirtatiously for weeks. This led to me flying to London—yolo. The plan was to check in to my hotel and meet him for lunch. A picnic? Small bites at Claridge’s, perhaps?

I showered, changed into a vintage Diane von Furstenberg wrap, and walked to the address Andrew had instructed. So sexy! So romantic! So … Burger King? Yup. The magical moment he arranged for us was lunch at Burger King. I ordered a bun. Just the bun. And never saw Andrew again.