“My mother was only seventeen when she had me, so my grandparents stepped in to help raise me. Because of that, I had a very strong bond with them. My granddad’s name was Willy, and he used to work in a chocolate factory, so you can imagine all the kids in the apartments, waiting for Willy Wonka to arrive every Friday afternoon with a refuse bag full of chocolates. When I was about seven, he got cancer, only he never told me. I remember one day he took me to the pub, sat me down and ordered a pint for himself and a pint glass of coke for me. He passed away a few weeks later. I’m sure he already knew, but only later I realized what that day meant for him; it was his way of having a pint with me before I came of age. I often think of how proud he’d be if he knew that today I’m a beer specialist in the factory of his favourite beer.”
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