I used to work with a guy who was, to be fair to him, a little racist prick
Given that we were in a company with a very diverse workforce and our boss was a black guy, he kept his views under wraps most of the time but after a couple of beers they'd all come flooding out - apparently his family had been in the East End of London since the great fire but within his lifetime they'd all been driven out to Essex by "the blacks", that sort of thing. Anyway, one night it was just me and him left at a pub near Liverpool Street station and he'd started on some sort of tirade or other when a youngish American chap came over and started chatting to us. Grateful for the distraction and the chance to widen the scope of conversation, we started talking about the States and so on and I thought I might actually have a reasonably racism-free night. However, in the interim, a guy who was obviously homeless had come into the pub and started minesweeping unfinished drinks people had left behind. Upon seeing this, our new buddy jumped up and berated him, calling him a filthy fucking hobo and so on. He was joined by the bartender, who defused the situation a bit, but still kicked the tramp out.

As it turned out the American guy was a fully signed up white supremacist, so soon him and my colleague were in full flow, complaining about how black people had ruined their respective countries. The other thing I noticed before I made my excuses and left them to it was presumably the reason that the American had been so upset with the tramp earlier - he was minesweeping his drinks as well, he was just more subtle about it.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 19 Sep 2013, 13:00, 1 reply)

I think this might be least interesting story I have ever read.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 20 Sep 2013, 14:00, closed)