PLAYING A TRICK ON AN OLD PRICK*

 * Richard was not involved in this just in case you were wondering.

It's funny how memories pop into your brain sometimes.

Apropos of nothing Robert wrote this in his latest post:

"I've always wondered about the distinction between brain and mind. In near death experiences the mind seems to leave the body. Angels do not have a brain but have intelligence. Some higher level things we do can not be accounted for just by the physical components of the brain."

No - it probably doesn't help.

A memory of an old prick I worked with many years ago came this morning. Fred** was a long-term worker in the hospitality industry having been for most of his life a publican. In his retirement he worked part time in the wine and spirit stores where I was assistant manager at one and manager of the other. Fred liked his rum and his favourite brand was Coruba.

Eventually Fred and his wife decided to move away from Auckland and purchased an old folks home somewhere down country. From time to time, when back in Auckland, Fred would call in to say hello (and have a 'spot' of rum in the 'Spot Room' which was the name for the entertainment bar that all wine and spirit wholesalers had at the time). One time on leaving he, as usual was making hints for me to give him a 'wee leaving gift'. I said "hold on" and scooted out to the shop floor and selected a bottle of McWilliams sweet sherry and a bottle of Coruba. I took these to the staff room where I emptied out the sherry and poured the rum into the sherry bottle, carefully recapping it to make it look unopened (I 'bought' the bottles on the store's hospitality account). I ushered Fred out to his car and gave him the gift which I'd put in a paper bag. He thanked me profusely and headed off.

I know from a friend of Fred's who I kept in contact with, that Fred thought I was a right miserable bastard for giving him the cheap sherry and when back home he stuck it in a cupboard and forgot about it.

About a year later Fred, on another Auckland trip, called in for a 'spot'. While we were swapping stories he told me that at the last Christmas time, his wife was making some trifles for the old folk in the old folks home and asked Fred if they had any sherry. He remembered the McWilliams sweet sherry and directed her to the cupboard. Soon after he heard a screech from the kitchen and went to investigate. His wife was staring hard at the bottle in her hand, half of which she had poured over the sponge pieces in the three large trifle bowls on the preparation bench. She handed the bottle to him and asked him to take a swig. When he did he realised it was Coruba dark rum and a smile lit up his face. "That Peter ..." he said to his wife and they both laughed.

Apparently the old geezers loved the trifles.

** That's his real name.