Mick's Selective Memory
“All you need is sugar and yeast and something to flavour it with”, asserted the Master-Story-Teller. To illustrate his point he went on to explain: “I once made a drop from grapefruit-juice. It was a bit dry at first but you soon got the taste for it.” We were drinking home-brew made with tins of brewer’s-malt that a Baker had ordered for making brown-rolls. The catch was that it was made with baker’s-yeast which gave it a bit of a rough bouquet. We were North-Sea-Tigers so we persevered and our palates adjusted fairly rapidly. Mick was an alcoholic who had begun his drinking in London’s eastern suburbs. His London-stories were set in the sixties, an era that is famous for playing tricks on the memory. One night of light-social-drinking brought our Hero and his friends to a certain night-club. A young Scottish-Singer was the centre-of-attention. Mick felt it to be his duty to ask her up for a dance. On the dancefloor the ungrateful-young-hussy asked him: “How did you-lot get in...