The place: Bordar House Cafe, Masham, North Yorkshire.
The year: 2003.
The time: 11:00.
Sunray and I are both enjoying a 10 000 calories belly-buster. If you want to eat well in England, eat cooked breakfast three times a day.
A random stranger walks in, decides he is God’s gift to comedy.
Looks like you two are enjoying that! Is that your third one of today?
I look at Sunray. Sunray looks back at me. He nods and winks to me. Mr Comedian wants to have some fun at us. We’ll have some fun with him.
I am wearing my DDR (German Democratic Republic t-shirt).
Wie bitte? Ich hab’ überhaupt keine Ahnung was Sie sagen. Tut mir leid.
Oh, you don’t speak English. Foreigner, yeah?
I point to my DDR logo:
Ja ja ja! Bear-leen, Cher-mun-ee, ja. Sorry, my English ist not gut.
Oh right, bloody krauts, yeah?
G in G:
Ja, ja, crowd of chermans here, ja. Big crowd at ze market place, ja!
Our man finally leaves us to our maple-cured bacon, baked beans and black pudding and sup our tea in peace.
Two minutes later…
Mornin’, Sunray! Mornin’, Ginge in Germany! How are you doin’, fellas?
Ron, one of the locals, had just walked in to order his Saturday bacon sandwich and had decided to greet us.
Morning, Ron! Good to see you. Come and sit down with us.
Mr Comedian hears Sunray, me and Ron chatting away (in English). He realises the laugh is on him. He scowls. He purses his lips so tightly, that they look a cat’s anus. He curses us as he leaves the cafe.
You two tw*ts think you’re so clever, don’t you!
Sunray and I laugh uncontrollably. Ron asks:
Er, what’s the joke, fellas?
Have a Teutonic day, won’t you!