Somehow, I discovered that the key to my 1953 Ford Anglia (bought it from a buddy for 30 quid) would open the hood of the jukebox in the lounge of a local bar - it didn't work the cashbox lock, though, so all we got was free music. Old Roddy, the landlord was an alkie (his wife also worked the bar and tried to keep him from drinking) and you'd have to ring a bell to get him to tend the lounge from the public bar. We were all 16 year-olds and were not old enough to drink (let alone DRIVE) but this was rural Scotland and nobody gave a shit. We'd order our pints and while Roddy was off getting them we'd open the jukebox and flip all the levers to play our favorite tunes. Back came old Roddy with a tray full of beers and surprisingly, there was always a large scotch extra. "Did nobody order this?", asked Roddy. When nobody claimed it, Roddy would say "Well, I guess it's mine!" And down him it would go.