The night I tangled more than my feet

I remember clearly parts of one of my earliest drinking sessions where I almost died. I was at a local pub, The Chequers, in the South drinking Badger’s Tangle Foot with my good friend Chris. We knew the owners of the pub and they were also heavy drinkers. As often happens, when great beer is flowing freely, we got pretty wasted. I had driven to the pub, but “wisely” took the country route that was only a couple of miles from my home. On the way home things were not so good – the last thing I remember before passing out is Chris telling me to keep it in third and the speedo read 70. The next thing I remember is Chris’s insistent words: “Max, we’ve rolled the car over.” The car was a write off, but luckily, presumably thanks to the Tangle Foot, we sustained zero significant injuries. The sad thing was that we had already passed my home when we went off the road. The good news is that years later I never drink and drive and I have something to look forward on my next trip to Blighty – finding a good pint of Tangle Foot.