Bernard took us for lunch, on expenses, to mark Martin’s arrival. We went to one of those imitation pubs, filled with imitation ornaments, and imitation staff selling imitation beer.
There’s a tacit understanding at these lunchtime events that we will not order anything too lavish and certainly no alcoholic drinks. I’d like nothing better than a pint of Speckled Hen to set me up for the afternoon and despite Bernard’s mock insistence “to have something a bit stronger’ we all know better.
‘I’ll have a diet coke, “ said Janice.
“So will I,” added Nigel.
“Make that three,” Ian said.
“I’ll have a fat one,” I joked. Bernard looked puzzled. “A normal coke. I’ll have a normal one,” I thought of explaining the joke but realised it wasn’t worth it.
“I’ll have a pint of John Smiths with a whisky chaser please,” Martin said.
We all laughed. Bernard realised that he was being serious and placed an order.
Mmmmmm Martin’s Wankerdaq price is about to crash, he’s a man after my own heart.