So I'm out shopping in Muswell Hill this morning, and the missus pops into Boots. I wait outside. Suddenly this geezer approaches me. He has Daily Mail Reader written all over him. Flatcap beetroot face sour yet pompous expression with a whiff of savagery.
Big Issue?
"You look the right colour" he says, looking at my jumper.
I look down, and just as I realise I am wearing a purple jumper I am aware of him trying to thrust a UKIP pamphlet into my hand, which I hastily withdraw, as if he's trying to give me a steaming warm freshly minted dog turd.
New design (and face value) for the pound coin if UKIP get in
"YOU MUST BE JOKING!!" I say, and back away. He is a little deflated.
I continue. ""You do realise this is Muswell Hill, where all the liberal trendies live, don't you?"
"Oh, that's as maybe, but we are doing really well here"
"I don't believe you," I say.
"Yes, yes, we are a party to appeal to all sectors of the British population. For example, did you know we have a local black candidate?"
Puzzled, I said "what the hell's that got to do with anything? The very fact that you think mentioning one of your candidates is black shows me that you find this significant. Am I supposed to be impressed? You're a bigot and you can't even see it."
"You can't call me a bigot."
"Okay, let's give you the benefit of the doubt and just call you ignorant."
We were almost shouting at each other, creating quite a crowd, when my missus turned up and herded me gently on. Me and Mr UKIP parted company hurling insults as each other.
And the election is still three months away.
Could all get nasty, we can only hope.
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