Taste

During my army days training to be a driver of three ton army trucks, we'd drive around different parts of South West England and North Wales. On rare occasions we would stop for refreshments at some of the fascinating old pubs along the way.

At one of these stops a mate who liked to sample home brews at these places had just paid for half pint of their pale ale when he needed to go to the toilet. After looking round he decided to write a note and leave it by his glass to ensure no one would touch it. He wrote,

'I have spit in this beer'. It worked, when he came back it was still there, just as full as it had been.

But there were some words added to the note; just three words, and they were,

'So have I.’

He looked at the note for a second or two then drank it anyway, in one big gulp, then remarking, 'You know, that was the best tasting ale I've ever drunk. That extra spit made it just right.’

There's no accounting for taste, is there?

Dennis Crompton © 1999
(first published www.denniscrompton.wordpress.com 2013)