End of season bar closures tend to produce the most alarming behaviour in people. Invariably, every night descends into a borderline orgy with a crap DJ, alongside a growing number of seasonaires crammed into a tiny space, rubbing themselves against each other and pouring spirits down their throats straight from the bottle. It is a time to break the glass on your emergency shag candidate. Alternatively, if you’ve been mooning over someone all winter, take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and ram your tongue down their eighteen-year-old throat.