We've finally made it back to the flat, after spending what seems like a lifetime stuck on an underground (subway) train.
So, okay, the train only broke down for fifteen minutes, but as Tony rightly says, that's fifteen minutes we could have spent in our favourite pub, drinking beer, and getting drunk, or having wild sex with some desperate females.
And if the lack of ice-cold lager wasn't enough, Tony reckons that the mental stress that comes with being forced to spend a quarter of an hour imprisoned inside a train carriage is enough to turn most men into blubbering wrecks.
And then there's the fact that the carriage was crammed full of hot and sweaty bodies, all rubbing against mine, and leaving me feeling like I had been in the middle of a herd of stampeding buffalo.
Of course, as the boy rightly says, hot and sweaty bodies of the male type do nothing for us, but when a couple of female Swedish tourists rubbed against me, for one moment I thought that I had died and gone to heaven.
Tony, himself, managed to get crushed between a pair of stunners from China, and even though he and I find it hard to get turned on by the Chinese, I have to agree with him when he says that there could be worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Anyway, we're now off to the safety of the pub, where the risk of being rubbed up the right way is sadly slight, but where we're above ground and amongst our friends.