“Had managed two steps before some skanky yoof with a lip piercing started to seriously agg me, walking backwards waving fliers for a comedy gig. Got to love Festival time. I tried to walk around him, went left, then right. Wasn’t happening. Skinny jeans and Converse All Stars working overtime to keep up. ‘What’s your comedy passion, geezer?’ Did he just call me geezer? ‘Comedy passion … Go away and find sense, lad.’ Undeterred: ‘You look like a serious man. Political satire, I’m guessing?’ ‘Wha...t’s that … Harpo Marx?’ Still undeterred, those matchstick legs doubled their pace. He wasn’t giving up. But he was new to this patter, I had that sussed early on. Turning my stride towards the edge of the pavement, I subtly steered Student Grant at the pile of cardboard boxes outside Argos. His legs actually managed to fly in the air at the same time as he hit them. His arse thudded into the boxes like an anvil falling on Wile E. Coyote. Managed a laugh; almost felt grateful to him for that.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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