Near Jacksons there was a bar where a good cross section of the ex-pat community would cram in for a drink after work, known as 'The Snakepit'. A doctor who enjoyed the company there was part Maori, name of Tony. One time there a blue Bonds athletic singlet wearing labourer (Ron says from Parks and Larks) came up to Tony and said gees doc what can I do about this blasted prickly heat? Tony says listen I've had enough of you bludgers always after a free consultation. Put your quid on the bar and then I'll tell you. Bloke does that then looks Tony in the eye,. .. . well doc what about it? Tony, pocketing the note says -
Scratch it. Just like I do.
(Ron ended up a 747 skipper, retiring in '79. Told many a ripping yarn, into the tape recorder. Transcript avbl.)
Last edited by Fantome; 4th Mar 2013 at 18:19.