MANY SUPERIOR WRITERS have chronicled the long crushing of illusions which marks the progress from innocence to experience, but none (to my knowledge), have discussed the appalling revelation that some people don’t brush their teeth before breakfasting. In public. Really.
I’d always had a bit of a thing about the unwarranted intimacy of hotel breakfast rooms; all those creased faces and ill-disguised adulterous hangovers looming at one over the buffet. But I learned only recently that my revulsion at the frowsty, halitotic miasma which inevitably hovers over
