Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Years ago, when I first joined the wine and spirit industry I went out on the delivery round with a chap named Liam. He was showing me where the regular customers lived and we would both carry in the booze (in those days there was a 9 litre minimum limit when purchasing any alcohol from a wholesaler (todays Liquorland-type retail)so the cheapest way for someone to buy a bottle of gin or scotch was to buy a dozen quart bottles of beer to go with it.
When we reached Mrs McGillacuddy's (name changed because I can't remember her real name), Liam said he would stay in the truck and check the dockets.
I didn't think anything unnusual about this as I was young and naive so went up to the door and knocked. An old woman, very skinny and heavily made-up answered the door wearing some kind of lacy dressing gown. I mumbled that I had her order here and told her the price. She asked me to bring the carton in and put it in the back room which I did. I then reminded her of the money and she said of course dearie and opened her dressing gown wide. She wore nothing underneath except a garter around the top of a skinny thigh and proceeded to pull money from it. I was desperately trying not to look but couldn't help seeing a flash of grey pubic hair. I fumbled with the change, giving her too much, and ran out of there.
Liam was sitting in the truck convulsed with laughter. Bastard.