When I made radio commercials for a big ad agency, I was always given the work experience kids. I remember one in particular – very nice but painfully shy. But over the course of the day, as we rushed round Soho, he relaxed. He told me his mum was an MP and his dad was AA Gill. What?? I was a huge fan. I loved his restaurant review that began “Where’s a suicide bomber when you need one?”. I loved his gloriously spiteful eloquence, his irrational loathing of the Welsh and his entirely rational loathing of Morrissey. By the afternoon, the kid had lost all his awkward shyness. AA Gill died yesterday and I only wish I’d kept the lovely letter he sent, thanking me for taking such care of his son. This appallingly Welsh record is for him because, as I can attest, not everything he wrote was spiteful.
The work experience kid.

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