After some 26 years, the church key/bottle opener I purchased in Telford, England, has broken. I was dumbfounded. The damn thing has been in my pocket, on my key chain for all these years, and now it is no more. It was the other night, while I was flipping the cap of a bottle of Bass Ale. That was appropriate, at least. How many beer bottles has this opened? I shudder to think.
The church key celebrated The Iron Bridge, a cast iron bridge (“erected in 1779”) that was a landmark of the Industrial Revolution. I'm glad the metal used for the bridge has stood up longer.
They were selling them out of a barrel that day.