On Christmas Day, milkmen would do their rounds at one o’clock in the morning…

….so they could enjoy the day with their families. My mate Pete was a milkman and one Christmas Eve, as we carried him out of the pub at midnight, he announced that he had to go straight to the depot to do his round. We got him there and somehow managed to get him out without anyone noticing that he could hardly stand up. But he was far too drunk to drive the float so I had to. My other two mates, Denis and Dave, had to deliver the milk. With Phil Spector’s Christmas Album blaring out of Pete’s ghetto blaster, we set off. No good asking Pete what to deliver or to which houses, so we just deposited random bottles of milk on random doorsteps. Assorted drunks hitched a ride on our float and we all had a marvellous time. But by Boxing Day, not surprisingly, Pete was no longer a milkman.