A long time a go I moved to Reading. By now I was wearing suits and commuting to London and other parts. I developed the habit of popping into Waitrose on my way home on a Friday to get some alcoholic apple juice to help destress from spending hours stuck in traffic. By now the supermarkets had woken up to the cider thing and were stocking an ever increasing range. And so it became a Friday night ritual to clunk my way into the house with yet another selection from the shelves and
try and decide which brand or mix or flavour I liked best.

One Friday I discovered a new range in the local supermarket and bought one of each. I was very excited and I needed to share my enthusiasm. There was no one home and so in my desperation I knocked on my neighbours door, asked what they were up to and suggested they join me in a cider tasting session.

I can't recall whether they truly shared my enthusiasm but they agreed. And so we
sampled a great variety. And a good night was had. It was however several weeks before they ever spoke to me again. I had to promise never to do that again as they had had the most monumental hangovers. Luckily relations have been restored.