I was in this pub in Clerkenwell with an hour to kill. Guns Of Brixton was on the jukebox. A drunk was insisting he'd given the barmaid a tenner. She was insisting it had been a fiver. Usual stuff.
Then the barmaid said, "I've got a number for Jeremy Corbyn. He's a personal friend of mine. He's a proper socialist. He's the only one who's got any principles."
The drunk swore that he'd given her a tenner. She ignored him. Then another drunk said, "That Jeremy Corbyn, he's a skinny bastard, sponging off the state."
Four police officers arrived, two women and two men, all wearing stab vests. The drunk became obliging and left quietly. It seemed to be a regular thing.
"Anyway," said the barmaid, after he'd gone "If it wasn't for Jeremy Corbyn we wouldn't have so many police. See, he's a proper socialist."
"Skinny bastard," said the second drunk.
The Lib Dems aren't dead yet, Jeremy. Keep that barmaid sweet.
