Ok. Here's a story

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Tea in a badly-stained mug.

They gave me tea in a badly-stained mug. I could see it was stained when the lady took it from under the counter. I didn’t say anything. Well, you don’t like to, not when it’s charity.

Even so, you’d think they’d be more particular. My mother was very particular; she used bleach when the cups got stained. Oh yes, we had cups, not mugs. Our family had a bit of class. And once you have class, you never lose it – even if you’ve fallen on hard times.

‘Fallen on hard times’. Funny expression that. Old fashioned. I suppose ‘Down on my luck’ sounds better. And it’s true. I’ve just had a run of bad luck. That’s all. Bad luck.

It was a white mug so it really showed the staining. I expect if it had been brown I wouldn’t have noticed. But it was white.
I drank the tea. It wasn’t just that it was a cold day; I didn’t like to offend the lady. She was a volunteer. And when somebody volunteers their free time to help folk like me you don’t want to appear ungrateful, do you.

But that’s really not the point. It’s the fact that because you have to turn to charity, they think they can give you a stained mug. One of the residents – Harry – said that he’d drunk tea out of a jam-jar before now. I said: Well, Harry, that may be all right for you, but I was brought up to appreciate the finer things of life.

I’ll bounce back, though. Once I’ve got the drinking under control. I used to drink whisky. Can’t afford that now. Still, white cider’s just as good – once you get used to the taste. Alcohol isn’t allowed inside the building. If you’re caught with a bottle in your room you’re liable to be kicked out.

I used to hide a bottle in the bushes just behind the wall. But I’ve had a couple stolen – there are some bloody thieves in this place, I can tell you. So, you know what I did? I got myself a flask – of those cheap plastic ones. It holds a pint. I buy a litre of cider, and drink some in the alley behind the off-licence. Then I pour the rest into the flask. That way, I can sit in the park and it looks like I'm  just having a cup of coffee. Also nobody questions me when I take it into the hostel.

If I can get into the kitchen when no one’s looking, I’ll smash that mug. Drop it on the floor. I mean, it’s not just a question of hygiene; it’s about keeping up one’s personal standards.