Tickets

Two ticket inspectors sit on the train, waiting for the doors to close, when we will all be captive and they can start checking the tickets. A rastaman, wearing a red gold and green crocheted hat leans into the carriage and shouts Peckham Rye? to nobody in particular. Several passengers murmur yes. He gets on.

One ticket inspector says to the other, friend of yours?
Other ticket inspectors goes, huh?
Switching to a Jamaican accent, "Peckham Rye" he a friend of yours?
I don't keep friends just acquaintances, he retorts.