Local Nutters
Everywhere in the world has its fair share of deranged people. I grew up in Wolverhampton and remember the Polish tramp who lived in a tent on the roundabout. Legend had it that his coat was stuffed with cash. More recently I notice the guy who spends his day pushing a trolley round Camden Sainsburys shouting, "Best of luck!". Constantly. Tell us about your local nutters. Points for details. Extra points for photos.
( , Thu 16 Sep 2004, 11:54)
Everywhere in the world has its fair share of deranged people. I grew up in Wolverhampton and remember the Polish tramp who lived in a tent on the roundabout. Legend had it that his coat was stuffed with cash. More recently I notice the guy who spends his day pushing a trolley round Camden Sainsburys shouting, "Best of luck!". Constantly. Tell us about your local nutters. Points for details. Extra points for photos.
( , Thu 16 Sep 2004, 11:54)
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Bruce Springsteen
Anyone who ever stood in the queue at Rochdale cinema in the early nineties will remember it was the cheapest cinema bar none. £1 for any film. They will probably also remember Bruce Springsteen.
He was a youngish lad who would habitually entertain the queue by impersonating The Boss. He would mumble vaguely familiar lyrics in a style not dissimilar to the great man himself. Later, he started sporting a hanky in his back pocket and singing to a crap Walkman.
Things turned nasty one night when some twat started pelting him with change. Even though a couple of two pees zinged off his head, he performed gainfully on. A true pro.
They shut the cinema a few years ago, and the new multiplex is out of town. I think I saw him outside a few pubs in Rochdale once or twice. Possibly broadening his repertoire.
( , Fri 17 Sep 2004, 15:21, Reply)
Anyone who ever stood in the queue at Rochdale cinema in the early nineties will remember it was the cheapest cinema bar none. £1 for any film. They will probably also remember Bruce Springsteen.
He was a youngish lad who would habitually entertain the queue by impersonating The Boss. He would mumble vaguely familiar lyrics in a style not dissimilar to the great man himself. Later, he started sporting a hanky in his back pocket and singing to a crap Walkman.
Things turned nasty one night when some twat started pelting him with change. Even though a couple of two pees zinged off his head, he performed gainfully on. A true pro.
They shut the cinema a few years ago, and the new multiplex is out of town. I think I saw him outside a few pubs in Rochdale once or twice. Possibly broadening his repertoire.
( , Fri 17 Sep 2004, 15:21, Reply)
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