Gormless jobsworth who dreamt up ‘vertical drinking’ ban needs to sit down & shut up – life wouldn’t be same without it

MY name is Dominic and I hereby confess to having been a vertical drinker for the past 40 years. Probably 43, if I’m honest. I used to swig a little port from the family’s drinks cabinet on occasion, although my father began locking it not long after. The body which ­controls the naughty corner of devilry that is Soho is inexplicably continuing with its determination to force drinkers to sit down and sup up Credit: Getty Who wants to be forced to sit down when you’ve been stuck at an office computer all day? Credit: Getty Of course, sometimes the vertical ­drinking has left me horizontal, but that is just a rite of passage through which we all must travel. So I spluttered into my Stella this week when reading that the body which ­controls the naughty corner of devilry that is Soho — namely Westminster ­Council — is inexplicably continuing with its determination to force drinkers to sit down and sup up. Their draught, apologies draft, plans outline a mission to reduce alleged anti-social behaviour and excess drinking, which they believe can be caused by those partial to a little erectile consumption. Poppycock. Hogwash. Horseshit. Balderdash and associated exclamations — for this is an artic truck load of ­absolute bollockery. In the 1940s, the forever-prescient George Orwell wrote that the pub was “one of the basic institutions of English life”, which “carries on despite the harassing tactics of non- conformist local authorities”. I’ll drink to that. The gormless grinch who conceived such misguided regulatory twaddle has probably never been invited down the boozer for some raucous ­merriment after work because nobody likes them. This is where the magic happens. Stress relieved. Jokes conceived and relentless piss-taking received. No, their Friday nights are probably spent listening to The Lighthouse Family and watching reruns of Richard Wilson On The Road on the ITV player while sipping a lukewarm cup of camomile. Alone. Perhaps a few hours scrolling through the Plane Finder app and rearranging book shelves in alphabetical order before dreaming up further jobsworth gibberish to justify their non-job and then undoubtedly early to bed. My life as an old-school vertical drinker has helped me form some of my most enduring friendships, assisted my career and improved my sex life, even ­leading me to marriage. Cheers indeed. For my wife and I’s eyes met while sampling a sherbet perpendicularly — and not long after we were tippling together in a rather more horizontal position. I have been offered many jobs too while enjoying a spot of casual VD-ing. Some of the best business deals, talent signings, newspaper headlines, silly ­feature ideas and columns have been agreed and composed during this sacred act of upright imbibement, an essential cog in British society and bloody good for one’s mental health too. I’ve done drinking vertically, diagonally, sideways, curled up. Thinking drinking. Sometimes sad drinking. But, like many things in life, I’ve always preferred doing it standing up. I’ve got up and guzzled eye-to-eye with several Prime Ministers, an heir to the throne and a queen, Liam from Oasis, Rod The Mod, the Chancellor of The Exchequer, a couple of Home Secretaries, Zoe Ball, Pierce Brosnan, Damon Albarn, Chris Evans, Tina Turner and Christopher Biggins, among others. Soho, the most creative square mile on Earth, was built on outdoor drinking and it is why gazillions flock to its hedonistic streets from around the globe. Many fine hostelries will be forced to close if such legislative buffoonery is allowed to pass. Imagine all the extra charges that will be added to our table-serviced rounds too — and who wants to be forced to sit down when you’ve been stuck at an office computer all day? Drinking breaks down barriers and inspires creativity, particularly when face-to-face while clutching a jar and indulging in a spot of vertical bantering, overhearing conversations nearby, and butting in while befriending strangers and watching footie. We call it F.U.N. Let us call last orders on this non- sensical twaddle. Sit down and shut up ­Westminster Council. Get your meddling hands off one of our finest traditions, a delight to Dickens, ­celebrated by Shakespeare and adored by Orwell, all pub-lovers who lit up ­literature and sold the British dream across the planet. It is time to stand up for vertical drinking. THAMES WATER A DRIP – OFF Thames Water boss Chris Weston saw his pay increase 14 per cent to £1.63million in the past year despite the company drowning in debt of £18.5billion Credit: BBC SO, let me get this straight. Thousands of homes and businesses were left without water after a huge Thames Water main burst in East London this week, leaving many to queue in blistering heat for supplies. Another exploded close to my home a few days ago, leading to a major route being closed, causing traffic hell. Britain’s biggest water company is drowning in debt of £18.5billion. Last year it was handed a record fine of £122.7million by the regulator, who said it had “let down its customers and failed to protect the environment”. In other words, they’ve pumped your street’s turds into a chalk stream at a local beauty spot. In the past year, Thames Water boss Chris Weston saw his pay increase 14 per cent to £1.63million. Bonuses are supposedly barred after government intervention. But now we learn that Britain’s worst-run company paid its new finance chief a £1million signing-on fee last month. Chairman Sir Adrian Montague described the payment as a “necessary incentive”. Tosh. It is a devious way around the bonus ban. Thames Water, which supplies 16million people across London and the Thames Valley, recently warned it only has enough cash to last until the end of the year, putting pressure on the new Government to decide what to do with it. I’m with Burnham on this one. Our water companies are conspiring against us, rather than working for us. Thames Water certainly should be taken under public ownership. They’ve been taking the piss for too long. And the excrement. And then pumping it straight into our rivers and seas. An abhorrent dereliction of public duty and one which scars this country and must not be allowed to happen again. BRITAIN may feel broken, immigration is out of control, our prisons full and high streets collapsing, but bananas are now growing on trees in tropical Dorset. So, as far as I’m concerned, all is right with the world. So, as far as I’m concerned, all is right with the world. J-LO AND BEHOLD…I GUESS SHE CAN BE A DIVA Jennifer Lopez posed in her pants and bra, both white, looking rather like a diva Credit: Charlie Chiu JENNIFER LOPEZ is obsessed with the colour white and is one of the world’s biggest divas, according to some goon who worked on Top Of The Pops decades ago. I interviewed the singer-turned-actress 20 years back in Philadelphia and actually found her witty and down-to- earth – nothing like her Jenny From The Block persona. She was even better looking in the flesh and wasn’t wearing anything pale. But newly single Jen has brushed off the criticism and owned it, posing for a snap in her pants and bra, both white of course, looking rather like a diva. So –for journalistic reasons, you’ll understand – I am obliged to reprint it here. IF Amazon boss Jeff Bezos is successful in acquiring 30 per cent of Liverpool FC, does this mean delivery of the Premier League title will be guaranteed the next day before 10am – the trophy lobbed over Anfield’s Shankly Gates along with a message saying nobody was in? BEASTIE THEFTS BETTER Mike D of the Beastie Boys wore a VW badge around his neck in a video as a fashion statement in the 80s Credit: Retna Ltd IN the late 80s, we had the family’s Volkswagen Golf badge nicked after Mike D of the Beastie Boys wore one around his neck in a video as a fashion statement. The culprit was never found but the sight of logo-less VW grilles was common in Thatcher’s Britain. Now, the badge theft trend is here again, but with very different motives. Apparently, the logos now contain radar sensors required for driver-assistance features and can be flogged for hundreds of pounds online after being snaffled in a matter of seconds. Crooks are using drones to locate VWs and, in an organised spree, 70 were stolen in just four days across South East London. Life was so much simpler in the 1980s, when we stole in the name of fashion, not profit. BRILLIANT Lucy Davis from The Office, who captivated millions of us with her portrayal of Dawn, has revealed a devastating diagnosis of incurable breast cancer. Lucy, 53, is the daughter of comic Jasper Carrott and has vowed to fight her terminal illness with ­humour. The animal lover also says she is looking forward to being reunited with her terrier Gracie, who passed away in 2024, and is “at peace” in her life. To handle such a heartbreaking moment with such grace is worthy of all our admiration. The nation is with you, Lucy. THE size of that uber-dinghy carrying 230 migrants on their cruise across the Channel . . . Intelligence sources tell me this craft is being readied for the migrants’ next voyage to our promised land Credit: Alamy At this rate, the ­smugglers are gonna need an even bigger boat for their next stampede. Intelligence sources tell me this craft, above, is being readied for the next voyage to our ­promised land. That’ll be some ­odyssey but, be sure of this: The crossing won’t last anywhere near as long as the film.