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We even commandeered an old pram and took to knocking on doors, asking neighbours if they had any empty bottles they didn't want. All we had to do was wait until no one was looking, lift them out of the crates and take them round the front to claim another refund.
The device plugs directly into the OBD-II port underneath the steering wheel.
Fortunately, Corona did a very acceptable, sickly-sweet, cut-price substitute called Coola, which went down a treat - especially as we had no idea what the Real Thing tasted like. The following week, the Corona man would give you money back on the empty bottle, which is how I discovered the concept of the refundable deposit.
Our Co-op milkman always took the empties away, but as far as I knew he didn't give us cash back.
While glass bottles could be washed and re-used at least half a dozen times, no one had then worked out a way of re-using aluminium or plastic.
In case you're wondering where this trip down Memory Lane is going, those days came flooding back this week when I read that the Government is thinking of reintroducing deposits of between 15p and 30p per drinks can or bottle.
We're talking pennies, old pennies, but it all added up.
A penny bought you four Black Jack liquorice chews. We'd search the streets for discarded bottles to return. It didn't matter where they'd been bought, any shop or off-licence which sold that particular brand would give you a refund. Then, one day, we spotted that the shop at the end of the road put out the empties in the back yard for collection.
If there was money in it, all sorts of groups, from charities to the Boy Scouts, would once again organise clean-ups of parks and river banks.
Perhaps people would be less inclined to chuck their cans into the streets and hedgerows in the first place if they were offered 30p for every one they took back. Winos would soon work out that three or four empty cans equalled one full can of Super Strength lager.
Even though I didn't realise it at the time, I was in the vanguard of the recycling movement.
It was in the early 1960s, before 'global warming' had been invented, and I was still in short trousers.
They'd be combing the gutters for cans and bottles to return - the green equivalent of Sherlock Holmes's Baker Street Irregulars.