Busker

Well there I was, in the precinct minding my own business and fiddling quietly, just playing my favourite tunes with my back legs as you do, when along came these two security guards, all full of wind and piss and as pompous as you like.

"What you doing?" says the first one, small round and fat he was, sarkey like, kept fiddling with his baton, pulling it round to the front and fingering it, like he was itching to pull it out and use it on me.

"Just making a living" says I "just playing a few tunes for the punters, no harm in that is there?"

"'Gainst byelaws" said the other one, pinch faced woman with eyes too close together, buck teeth and that sort of hair like a brillo pad pulled back and tied with a brown ribbon, but straggly like. She looked like her uniform had been made for a flossie three sizes smaller and two feet taller. But not unattractive if you're partial to a lass in uniform.

"Look" says I "I just want to earn enough for a bed in the spike and a bit of dinner. what's wrong with that ?"

"'Gainst byelaws" she repeated, "like nudity and taking photographs".

"Well I'll keep me clothes on then" says I "and I've not seen any thing worth photographing till you came along"

I swear she blushed, but shorty was getting agitated, "move on now" he says "or there 'll be trouble"

"Not from me" I said, "no bother from me, I told you I just want to make enough for..."

"I heard you the first time" he interrupted, "now do I have to call the police or are you going to move?"

"Let me see the bit in the bye laws that says I can't rub me legs together rythmically then" says I

"We'll have none of that kind of talk" he says, "Sadie go and phone."

I extended my feelers toward Sadie, in what I hoped was a pitiful way .

"Come on Sadie" I pleaded,"I only need half an hour."

"Nothing to do with me," she said, "it's management, they don't like vagrants and buskers and the likes of you."

"I'm no vagrant" I cried, "I am just a working guy down on his luck."

The coppers were quite kind, once they got me in the van, they took me to the station and gived us a cup of tea and then called this woman from the Salvation army.

Well she came along, all righteous with one of them little bonnets and the grey stiff hair and those skirts specially designed so they can't get their knees apart. She gave me this long lecture about ants who work all year long storing up food for the winter, and not wasting their time making music for shoppers and how the likes of me shouldn't expect ants to support layabouts and dossers.

"Another thing" she said "I can't give you a bed in the hostel because we don't allow drinkers in."

"Have you finished?" says I "then let me tell you, I am not a layabout nor a dosser, I, madam am a musician, and another thing I wouldn't take a bed in your hostel if it was the last refuge on earth. I am not needing your charity nor your lectures because what you don't know is that before the coppers turned up, I slipped yon Sadie woman my mobile number and offered to take her portrait out of uniform if you know what I mean, ahah Excuse me, that'll be her now, so go and give your euphonium a suck, why don't you?"