Tramp
I've been known to be quite generous when I've imbibed large quantities of alcohol.

On one occasion in February last year, I had met up with some friends and dragged my brother out to celebrate his 25th.

A few beers, capirinhas, and cheery brandys later, we were on out way to another pub. Some of us elected to get a taxi, and a few, including myself, decided to walk.

Of course, as soon as I hit the fresh air, I became unsteady on my feet.

As I was staggering past a kebab shop I was accosted by a rather large, and incredibly threadbare tramp.

"Scuse me, love", he slurred ('Love' being a common form of greeting between two men in Leeds, for some reason).
"I really fancy a burger. You don't have £1.70 on you? Look, I'll go in and buy it while you're here so you know I'm not going to spend it on drink or drugs."

I fished around in my pocket and found a £2 coin. He bumbled off into the bar and came out with a quarter pounder. He then pressed 30p back into my palm, and shook my hand in a friendly manner.

I then looked at the paw that was pumping mine in gratitude, and noticed that he had a huge, pussy, open wound in his palm, around which was wrapped a strip of grotty duct tape.

He then offered me a bite of his burger, which I politely declined. He thanked me warmly again, and then took off.

I was left with a warm feeling that was half benevolence, half nausea.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Tue 7 Oct 2008, 13:15, Reply)