The Alcoholic Years?

The Start:

Mackeson was the beginning of my downfall I’m afraid.

Mother dear, to make me stop crying and giggling while she was playing Bingo or studying the horses form, she found out if she gave me the dregs left over from Dads bottles of his Milk Stout it would do the trick.

Fair enough, I fell out of the pram a few times, but there you are.

 The hidey-hole!

She soon extended this habit to meal times and evenings. Well, logical actually, it saved he having to make up bottles and washing the pots if she just filled my face with Mackeson.

It made her jubilant too, saving more time for nipping to the bookies and shoplifting.

I recall that when the police or debt collectors called, and we had to hide in the larder under the stairs, I usually got a bottle of Dad’s plonk stuck in my mouth. That worked too; I certainly learnt that if I started to pretend to cry when we were in the hidey-hole, I always got some plonk that amazingly stopped me making any noise every time!

Mother got arrested

It had to happen, not that she got sentenced just a warning, but it meant she was away for a few days.or

During this time I was getting Mackeson withdrawal symptoms.

Why was Dad not quenching my ever growing addiction to the Mackeson? I was puzzled.

Then when Mother ran away to avoid being arrested again, I was in a right pickle. Cunningly I started asking Dad if I could go with him on his walks (To the pub, but then, I was not supposed to know like).

I was a cunning little dimple-cheeked rascal and soon found if I cried in the pushchair, he’s come out and give me a glass of shandy now and then. His mates when they saw me, used to top up the glass with some of their pints of ale, bless em.

Finding females!

A few years later, the local older girls would start investigating my body, and demanding certain actions from me.

I had no idea why at first, but soon I was enjoying new experiences.

This, caused me to start using what money I had or could earn, to purchase some ale of my own. I was never sure at the time if I was drinking to invigorate myself or in celebration?

Mothers return and The Move

Mater returned to the fold after being caught by the police and getting away with it all again! The three of us moved to a housing estate.I treated myself to my first little motorbike

I treated myself to my first little motorbike and almost stopped drinking at one point.

Then, about a year later one Friday night, I returned home from work and found the house in darkness. Got in, no electricity on, I wandered around in the darkness and discovered the house was empty of everything but the rented TV? Nonplussed and confused I actually opened the front door to see if I was in the right house – and there it was stuck on the door; An eviction notice! Nowhere to live, a neighbour came up and said she was looking out for me coming home so as to tell me about the eviction for none payment of rent by dear Mother again. She put me up for the night in her front room. The Saturday I got to work, and Mother called me to say she had found an ideal place for me to live in a lodging house. I pointed out that I had somewhere ideal to live until she decided to take the rent money from both me and Dad (Pair of suckers) and still not paid it!

I duly moved with my two suitcases to the new place. Sharing a bedroom with five other blokes, it was breakfast and evening meal at £5.5.0 a week, an awful lot in those days. Yet, I found it nice, as all the other lads were heavy boozers and I soon caught the flavour and habit. It wasn’t for three months that I found out it was an ex-prisoners dwelling.

Promotion Arrives – With more cash being available now for me to support the breweries, Tsk!

I was then promoted to assistant manager and relief Manager at Tesco!

There was no stopping me then. Working long hours and days, out to the pub, back to the shop to work on restocking… it was a terrible grind, but the alcohol and being able to afford it lessened the blow somewhat!

Danger: Marriage prospects arrived!

One of the girls at the Wimpey Burger Bar across on Granby Street in Nottingham seemed to take to me and fed me extras as she served me. Then it was a walk in Nottingham Castle grounds at lunch, bit of fondling and necking, and I was hooked!

Things moved quickly, and a deposit was put on a wedding dress, the banns organised at the church, I was all over the place mentally, but accepting it was going to happen. A flat was found, and it as when I was sorting this out, I got a message in the post; She’d decided to go back with her old boyfriend and was sorry!

That weekend the breweries profits were significantly increased!

I was In and out of the Forces in double-quick time!

I made up my mind to join the RAMC.

Within weeks, they had decided I had failed the medical after all? Hernia bother they said?

I familiarised myself with the local breweries rather enthusiastically.

Back to Nottingham

Tesco took me back on, and I joined a local Angling Club in Sherwood, where I was now living in a great ground floor flat.

This was, without any doubt, the highlight in my Alcoholic period. The lads were all the same, and I felt at home. Every night at the boozer or club, weekends angling matches followed by drinking competitions. We used to play dominoes or Tip-it, but none of us sober enough to bother now.

But I was happy, contended and uncaring about this!

Grizelda comes into my life!

Never has emotions, desires and complete utter passion come into my life like this!

She was a solid big gal, an East German Police Officer over here to visit someone I knew from work. She had stone biceps, was a wonderful hairy thing, and I fell in love with her instantly!

We had such a fantastic three weeks together. The way she would throw me onto the bed then… well, never mind, we enjoyed each other as much as was humanly possible to.When

When she left it broke my heart, and bank balance as I then recommenced the drinking with a vengeance! Tsk!

Stopped the Drinking at last!

After my hernia lasering session, I stopped drinking.

It’s just as well because I might not have got through the bowel cancer and then the heart operations that followed.

Of all the things here, I only miss one, Grizelda Fruenburgher.

Sigh!