Last weekend – I was just home from London and the aeroplane was late – as I went down to get a bottle of milk, I saw my local, decent publican standing at the open door of his premises and stopped to talk to him. Two young lads and a girl went past, they wanted to get in but the publican said he was closed. They drifted off, came back and one of them said to me, quite pleasantly, "You are the fellow off the TV." The other lad then said, "You are the effing queer off the TV" at which the girl decided to investigate and grabbed me by a certain section of my anatomy that I will cover by the discreet appellation of the undercarriage. Her companion was so thrilled by this phenomenon that he came up and hit me an almighty clout on the ear which is still ringing from the effect.