It wasn’t really until the next morning—well, it was the afternoon by the time I woke up—that the reality of it all hit me: the van was history. It was an ex-van. It had ceased to be. No more driving the van for me. From then on either Terry, Twinny, or Dave Pils drove a rented van, and every night after a gig I lived it up with the rest of the band in the bar, boozing and trying to pull girls. On the one hand, it was absolutely magnificent. On the other hand, I ended up an alcoholic.
