Nicky-Tams was my first pub, the place I drank as a teenager, a time of your life when you can be as obnoxious as you want while downing cider at the park or in a friend’s empty house: you can stagger around, burst into tears, hoot and holler, squawk along to My Chemical Romance, and unless the police are called or someone’s parents show up, nobody is going to tell you off. Drinking in a pub marked the beginning of a more mature stage in my life, an education in how to socialise.