Saturday Mornings, Newcastle upon Tyne, England, 1961: 

Wake up. I'm 15. Leave house in smart clothing. Duck into cellar & change into hidden drainpipe trousers, leopard-skin mohair sweater & hand painted winklepickers. Bus to Marlborough Crescent. Run to Finlay's tobacconists at the top of Pink Lane/Clayton St. Load up on bizarre foreign tabs (Sobranie Cocktail, Black Russian, Passing Clouds, Balkan, Gitanes).  

Straight to JG Windows in the Central Arcade. Lust after Burns Black Bison & Watkins Rapier Circuit 4 guitars. Meet friends dancing on the spot in record listening booths. Exit into Grey Street & head for either the Marimba at the corner of High Bridge or further up to the El Toro.  

Select suitable jukebox accompaniment, light bizarre cigarette & wait for reaction. Generously offer bizarre cigarettes to crowd of attentive 6th form girls a year or so older than me. Bask in their company. 

Run out of bizarre cigarettes. Girls drift away. Feel sick & dizzy from noxious smoke. Run out into High Bridge, throw up in gutter. Walk unsteadily back to Marlborough Crescent bus station. Repeat each week until 16th birthday.

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