Doing the Kowloon slide - or as we call in Britain, two Ed stories.

Ed is American, that can't be helped and it is certainly not his fault, but it does go a long way to explain these two incidents.

In the first, Ed and I had been to see Lexmark in Paris, to try and sell them something we didn't actually have and probably never would, this is common practice in the Leasing world.

Ed is also eccentric and a bit of a polymath but first and foremost he is an American.

Upon our return to this green and pleasant land we know as either Blighty, England or at worst Britain, and what Merkins know as the You Knighted Kindgom, we passed through all of the necessary customs and so on and made our way to the car park where my green BMW 525 TDS was parked.

Approaching the car I could see not all was right and upon closer inspection I could see the car had been broken into and what contents were there when I parked the car, were no longer there.

I mentioned this to Ed thus:

"Oh dear, looks like the car has been broken into and I've been rather badly burgled."

Ed then started to shout - to be honest he may have been having a mild panic attack and said:

"Call the police!!!"

I told him:

"No need Ed, all they'll do is waste our time, let's get you back to the hotel."

Ed appeared not to hear this and for the next several minutes shouted "Call the police!!" at regular intervals.

As we exited the car park, I called my wife and said:

"Hi, back at Heathrow. Bit of a setback on the car front, it has been broken into, but all is well and I am taking Ed to his hotel, be home in a couple of hours."

On hearing this, Ed started to shout "Call the police" again and my wife asked what on earth was going on.

To this day, Ed will comment that I showed almost 007 levels of cool in not shouting and/or shooting someone because my car had been broken into. I tried to explain I was merely being English but to no avail.

The second story could be considered to be entitled: The saga of smoking Ed and the fifty pound note.

One morning, Ed turned up in our Watford office and having arrived at my desk, instantly said:

"I forgot, I need a pack of cigarettes."

At which he pulled a crisp new £50 from his money clip - one of from what I could see were at least 20!

I said "You are buying a box of fags with a £50?" (In these days fags were about £3 a box of 20)

He replied, "Yes. Stated with all of the confidence of a senior executive in a major American corporation.

I chuckled and said I didn't think this would be quite the ticket as the local fag shop would almost certainly look askance and deny all knowledge of ever having sold fags before. Moreover they'd consider this odd sounding chap to probably be a gangster and would shut up shop after he'd left and move back to Pakistan.

Ed simply looked at me and informed me that of course he'd be able to buy his 20 fags with a fifty, it was after all the currency of good old Blighty.

I merely chuckled and he tottered off.

Ten minutes later he appeared at my desk again with these somewhat contrite words:

"Mate, can you spot me a fiver as they appear not to want anything to do with this!" and he brandished the fifty in front of me.

I answered "Really, fancy that!" At which I gave him his a fiver and he tottered off once more.

I had the good grace not to piss myself laughing until he'd exited stage left.

Americans are wonderful, rich Americans are hilarious!

Ed is a very good friend so none of the above is meant in any way to denigrate a wonderful bloke!