Bearded Fruitcake.

I've heard a few chat-up lines in my time, but last night's delivery has to rank among the top five for originality and surrealism.
While enjoying a quick Leffe in the Belgian Bar, on my way home, I was nattering with this fella that I'd spoken to a few times previously in the Artillery Arms, when he declared that he'd just taken stock of a fruited beer cake and would very much like to share it with me. Almost inclined to take him up on his kind offer, I decided not to on the strength that he had a little goatee beard. Having had experience of one of those before, and a rather itchy rash on my inner thigh as a result, I figured he'd be best left alone.

Shame about the beer cake, though. That sounded quite nice!