Ah, Russian Rob, the crème de la sour crème of all tramps. Just to reiterate - he is still alive, fat and well, living at the home next to the SGH next to Katharine House Hospice.
I used to work in a couple of the high street clothes shops in the late '80s through to the '90s, and Rob became quite a regular, much to the disgust of the majority of the potential customers. One of the members of staff would buy a shed load of Glade air freshener sprays so when he would come into the shop, she would quite openly start spraying him up and down. He took this in good grace and would do a pirouette in order that she could spray him completely from front to back and head to toe.
One Christmas, I remember we were selling some underwear for men, and Rob came in and bought a pair of the most quite outlandish briefs we had stocked. They were red satin jock strap 'Chippendale style' type briefs. He wanted to try them on in the changing rooms, but we managed to stear him well away from the place.
A little or so later, he came back into the shop and right in the middle of the place, he dropped his trousers to reveal these two dog faeces smeared sparrow's legs - topped off with a pair of allegedly 'kinky' turn your missus on red satin briefs that were barely holding themselves up around his bony waistline! I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, be sick or feel sorry for him. I am living testament that it is possible to feel all of these emotions at once.
A friend and myself actually went to his house one night - it was part of a drunken bet in the pub. All I can say is, I wish I hadn't wasted my money getting pissed in order that I could be sick.
In fact, reminiscing, I remember he had a house-mate back then, but I can't remember his name. All I can recall is that he was very tall, white scruffy balding hair, and I think he wore thin glasses and a long trench coat. He walked with a walking stick and his breath was always an overpowering stench of meths, his bloodshot, evil looking eyes attested to that. I've got the name Ivor in my head for some reason, though I could be wrong.
Coming back to the present day, I do see Pete most days. He's usually found, face pressed up against a closed travel agent's window, shouting profusely. Sad, but shamefully, I find it funny, too. Also, the fact that he was wearing his red shorts, tight white t-shirt and trainers in the torrential downpours the other week had me chuckling.
Other people that I notice haven't had a mention are John 'Fooey' Page, Dave 'Action Man' Dix, and in more recent times, Dave 'Stafford'.
Just go to Youtube and type in 'dave stafford street performance' and you'll probably recognise him, or should I say his voice. He seems to be everywhere at the moment. In fact, there was a fairly serious accident on Foregate Street by the old Social Services the other day, and there was a young lady flat out on the road with the Police and Paramedics trying to get her into the ambulance and away to hospital. Who should be in the middle of it all chatting to the police, but Dave Stafford. I've also noticed that he hangs around the flower stall boys quite a lot too.
Anyway, I'm all whacked out posting that, so I'll give it a rest tonight and bore you lot again some time in the near future.
My apologies for any bad spellings, missed words or grammatical errors. These small boxes are difficult to check what you are typing properly.
See ya.