Special Brew

In a hurry to catch my train at Leeds station this evening, a random tramp approaches me. This is, however, not your run of the mill vagabond asking for change for a cup of tea. He starts to reel off pun after pun, joke after joke like a cross between Rainman and Bob Monkhouse lubricated by a six pack of Special Brew. I ignore him and hope he gets my drift, but he gives chase regaling me with shit one liners.

After a couple of minutes (at which point I am starting to get rather annoyed with this wannabe comedian) I tell him that I "really do not have time to listen to you, I have a train to catch". I am polite but firm, but my words fall on deaf ears. Then he changes tack...

Tramp: "Do you know any jokes?"

Chris: "Sorry mate, really got to rush for the train"

Tramp: "Come on, tell me a joke"

Chris: (becoming increasingly frustrated) "what do you call a tramp that doesn't take a hint?"

Tramp: (sucked in due to intoxication) "dunno, what do call a tramp that doesn't take a hint?"

Chris: "Sorry mate, what's your name?"

Tramps, street vendors, members of religious sects and fat people obstructing entrances take note.

If you cross Chris when he's in a hurry, you do so at your peril!