Yesterday, whilst wandering the posher bits of Nottingham in search of a hazelnut lattè, I saw a guy playing a didgeridoo. After watching for a few minutes to check he was doing the circular breathing properly, I tossed him 50p.
There was an awful lot of drool at the foot of the instrument dribbling out onto Bridalsmithgate.
I didn’t think I could top that before I got home, but just before I got on the bus I could have sworn I saw someone smoking using an 8″ cigarette holder. It was quite some distance, but unless he was wandering around chewing on a magic wand, I’m at a loss to explain what the white tipped black stick hanging out of his mouth was.
It would have been more impressive if he’d been wearing a smoking jacket and not a fleece.