The Curmudgeon

He looked like a student working his way through the long vac and it wasn't really his fault.

That, however, did not save him from Mrs C's wrath. And when the Curmudgeoness is really aroused, her wrath can be truly awesome.

We had been to do the weekly shop and, because the day was hot, had decided on a pub lunch and a shandy. It was the price of the latter that sparked the fuse.

"How much?" demanded Mrs C, who pays for such treats out of the housekeeping. "Eighty pence for a half pint of shandy? That's exactly the same as a half of bitter."

"That's right," said the lad, face pink with embarrassment. "We charge the same."

"Daylight robbery," snorted Mrs C. Then she turned her gimlet eyes on me.

"What did you have?" she demanded.

Well, Mrs C had agreed to drive that day and I had ordered a pint of pretty ordinary bitter with, in view of the heat, a dash of lemonade.

"And how much was that?" she demanded of the feckless barman. He licked his lips and confessed: "£1.85."

"But a pint's only £1.60. How come the extra?"

The youth shook his head, condemned. "We have to charge an extra 25p for the lemonade."

Mrs C did some calculations in her head. Her glare was like a laser beam.

"But to put in lemonade, you must leave out some beer. And unlike the beer, there is no excise duty on the lemonade. So you admit you're charging more for less and pocketing the difference?"

"Sorry," said the youth, broken. "It's hotel policy."

"Well, it's my policy not to give in to highway robbery so you can cancel the food and say goodbye to my custom forever." She dragged me out on the street before I could even finish my controversial drink and fumed all the way home.

The fact of the matter is that Mrs C was exactly right: pub soft-drink prices are a total rip-off. She knows that now. I've known it for years.

And, it is alleged, word has finally reached the ears of the Government. They are said to be setting up an enquiry to look into the matter, which probably means another committee of highly paid lawyers and consultants finding out what everyone else in the land already knows.

And will anything happen? I doubt it. The last lot promised an investigation into the widespread drinking of so-called alco-pops by under-age kids.

Some years later, there are more alco-pops on the shelves than proper drinks and doctors are worried about increased alcoholism amongst teenagers.

And what has Government done? Nowt, as usual. Will this lot be any better? The committee might be set up, it might investigate at length and write an even lengthier report which will no doubt find some cosy pigeonhole in Whitehall.

For the big brewers are a powerful force. They raise billions in VAT and excise duty and the Government needs those billions. To pay for expensive lawyers and consultants who sit on committees to write reports that no-one ever acts on.

Could I please be a pigeon-hole-filler, Guv? I'll do it half-price.

* The Curmudgeon is a satirical column based on a fictitious character in a mythical village.

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