I close my eyes when I enter Lil's bar, and try not to hear what's being said, especially whenever I have to nudge past gramps and Pete's scruffy table. Do those two live here, or what? My seat in the snug awaits. I shall enjoy a half pint of Pimms [in my own clean glass] and read the Financial Times. Not because I have any stocks or shares [or indeed any savings] but so that I at least appear to be knowledgable regarding such matters. 
Is there a toiletry you can no longer buy and miss?






