I think it's time to come clean. I'm not really an Essex Boy at all. I'm a Bristolian with a fading West Country accent, although it's not faded enough yet for the young people here to stop finding it amusing.
Growing up in Bristol was made better thanks to my association with the youth service. From the ages of about 11 to 17, I was a regular attender at my local youth club. That's six years of social education. At least twice a week I would go along, pay my 20p, or whatever it was, and be part of the club. That's somewhere around 600 hours, or 83 working days, of contact with youth workers.
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