England, my England!

Returning from a dinner in Eton where my host did different accents at the table, including several shades of posh, I get off at the train station in Reading and start walking to my friend's place. A Russel Brand type of English guy approaches me and says 'I know this sounds very strange but do you have 60 p?' I smile, and when he realizes I won't pay up he starts 'Fucking...' and stops to consider, possibly, to go for a racial one and then thinking better of it '...bitch!' he says. All is well with the world.