Almost certainly your best piece, and I admit I haven't read all of them. I often dream, torture myself, about the chances I had in my twenties. I had a nice inheritance courtesy of my mum's trust fund. She died when I was young, you know that, and I had a wedge of cash when I was 21. I blew it. All of it. Drugs, women, booze, musical equipment, holidays, bullshit. You know. Could have invested it. Used it. Made money. Property. Instead I work now as a groundsman cutting grass in France. It's the way it is. I'm good. I'm fucking good.