Dear Mr Chucks
I'm still frantically trying to work-out your real identity from your cunning nom de plume.
Yes you tell a good story; so real is the image in my minds-eye that I have this picture of a thin 'blonde' gentleman standing (only ever standing) adjacent to a large African hardwood bartop looking a little stained and worn with age (the bartop that is!), surrounded by a motley looking audience from different cultures and backgrounds, all held by the glinting eye and stiletto dry wit of the raconteur. He sips at his soda (tinged with Angostura), and dryly, laconically slips seamlessly into the next wonderfully funny tale. As beautifully told as any Wagnerian or Mozart opera, equally oblique at times, equally entertaining (if you like that kind of tosh). Ah the minds-eye... No doubt I have is all wrong, are you that very fat guy with the extremely red neck, and bad breath, that used to work in Lagos?
Hail the storyteller, whomsoever that masked man really is.
Prost!
Doc