- A couple - middle aged, well-dressed – dead drunk and arguing on the way home from the local pub. She reaches out and grabs our rubbish bin for support and predictably both she and the bin tip over (fortunately it was empty). Her to him: “Don't call me a nutter, I ain't a nutter”. His response: “Shut up, you're such a nutter you don't know what you're saying”. Much gnashing of teeth and crying ensues (both him and her) while the Animator and I watch riveted from the upstairs bedroom. This is better entertainment than the rubbish that passes as free-to-air TV here.
- Local homeless guys arguing over who spilt their precious vodka. As I walk past, one lies down on the footpath and starts licking up said beverage. His mate, not wanting to miss out, immediately follows suit.
Both these incidents happened in Clifton, the leafy, much touted “best” suburb in Bristol.
Come back Wellington, all is forgiven.
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