It was a moment of triumph. The last bottle of Magner's was sold, and the Thatcher's Gold came up from the cellar to fill the empty fridge space. No longer would the foul, apple-pulp concoction be seen in our little pub.
Since then, however, I've found my new bottled cider policy has a major drawback. I'm just so tired of hearing staff explain to dumbstruck punters that, no, we don't sell Magner's, and no, we don't sell Bulmers either. They then have to launch into a pre-prepared monologue about how we do sell a nice English cider, and yes, you can have it poured over ice. It's wearing me down. Kill me.