On the train back to London from Scotland, a very
"No, no...we're fine, thanks," I replied.
He reached into his pocket to reveal a mini gin bottle. "Oh nonsense," he said, "Do you like gin?"
Being the honest girl that I am, I had to nod my head yes to such a direct question, but told him to keep his bottle. He handed it over anyway and then asked what my friend Laura would like. We again, told him to keep his bottles, to no avail. Drunk man pulled out all types of alcohol bottles from his pockets and pants--vodka, whiskey, gin, wine--and handed them over to us. We were laughing so hard every time a new bottle came out, asking, "Sir...how many do you have??"
Eventually we had a collection of bottles, and as the man stood up for his stop he glanced down at the stash and exclaimed, "Wait! I gave you all of those?!? Oh, go ahead and keep it!"
I couldn't ask for better train service.