Our favourite pub is in the same road as a large insurance company's local office, so it's no surprise that every lunchtime a few of the insurance company's office workers like to invade the pub, where they can enjoy a drink, and talk amongst themselves about work, life and death.
It's a routine that makes Tony and me laugh, because the workers in question have to be some of the most boring people we've ever had the misfortune to meet, and sadly spend our lunchtimes with.
For instance, one of the gang is a spotty geek called Peter, and whilst he may be a good lad, who looks like he may have a promising career in insurance, he is an extremely dull individual, who likes to spend his precious lunchtime drinking nothing stronger than orange juice, whilst talking to his equally uninteresting colleagues about his sexual fantasies.
Well, needless to say, and as Tony told Peter, orange juice may be good for us - crammed with its various vitamins - but sometimes a pint of lager followed by a couple of large whiskies would be more beneficial, especially if the thought of spreadsheets and annual projections seem too much to handle.
Peter laughed a very girlish sort of laugh, and looking at Tony, he said that if he wanted to turn into an idle, fat bastard, who spends most of his time in a pub, then he'll probably give up the orange juice, and follow my fat friend's advice.
Needless to say, Tony grabbed Peter by the throat, and I reckon he would have gladly inflicted much suffering on him, had not common sense prevailed, with Tony realising that throttling an office worker is not good for his already stained reputation.
Happily, Peter got over his brush with death, but since the incident neither he or his tedious friends have returned to the pub, to talk about insurance, whilst seeing just how many pints of orange juice they can drink in an hour.