She stood at the departure gate
Smiling and checking boarding passes
Dealing with the happy and the mad
The good the bad and the silly arses
When a tottering man approached
She extended her hand for his ticket
When he opened up his rain coat
And blatantly flashed her his wicket
He smiled inanely and swayed about
Having spent too much time in the pub
Without batting an eyelid she said,
"I need to see the ticket not your stub."
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