Key to the Kingdom

We met by the beach as the sun set beyond Ailsa Craig.

Three good-sort truckie blokes, stopped up for the night in the harbour car park.

We had a yarn — though once they got going I understood only a little, through thick accents and foreign vocabulary.

I gave ‘em a swish of Bundy rum. Ian asked if I ran the van on it; young Evan spluttered a bit, but Craig knocked it back with relish.

It was cold once the sun was gone, and we were soon ready to retire to our respective vehicles.

But Craig had a parting gift for me: a key.

“This,” he told me, “will open any disabled toilet in the UK.”

If life is a game (and it is), then this is a cheat code — and I am thrilled to have it.

Thank you Craig. Everytime I take a shit, I will think of you.