Whisky Galore.

I picked up a smashing young thing at the airport last week, back pack and all, who had just returned home from the almost obligatory ‘world trip’ before going to uni.

The stories she told me not only had me laughing but reminded me very much of what it was like living and working in the Spanish holiday resorts way back in the ‘70s, some things, it would seem, will never change.

One story was about her working in a night club where one of her main tasks was filling up the bottles of spirits art the beginning of each evening, before the punters arrived.

The twist here was that all the bottles of, say, whisky, no matter what label they were carrying, would be filled from the same barrel of locally produced stuff. Cheap, locally produced stuff, to boot.

She said although she knew it was wrong, nothing gave her greater pleasure when some oaf was sounding off about how there was nothing like the taste of Chivas Regal and it was worth every peseta of the extra he was paying to know that he was a complete dickhead.

The other story that had me shaking my head in wonderment concerned the time she was working behind the bar in a well known London pub.

It seemed that every time a certain young lady worked, not our friend I hasten to add, it was obvious that money was missing from the till and just as obvious who was responsible. But no matter how closely she was watched, nobody could ever find her doing anything wrong.

One day, though, at the end of her shift, the manager followed her down stairs as she supposedly went to the ladies.

To his surprise, he found her not going to the loo but to the cellar where she had put a pair of panty hose on to the down pipe which ran from the bar sink to he cellar drain. Inside, the panty hose was twenty to thirty pounds worth of notes and coins.

What she had been doing, of course, was slipping the money into the sink and then collecting it at the end of her shift. No wonder she could get away with wearing pocketless dresses all the time.

Now I reckon you’ve got to admire a brain like that, just a shame it wasn’t being put to a better use.