Hamish Champ: What's in a glass?

I was drinking in the centre of London last night and witnessed what I can only describe as, well, a 'crime against branding'.

Waiting to be served in a large managed pub a minute or two's walk from Oxford Street, I watched as a trendily-attired chap standing next to me ordered a bottle of Bulmers "over ice".

The guy serving him plonked down on the bar said bottle and a pint glass full of ice.

And the receptacle in question was a… Magners glass.

My cup of indignation nearly overflowed at this schoolboy error. I wondered at all the money spent on perfecting the perfect serve and the time and resources brand owners spend on educating bar staff as to the benefits of aligning drinks with branded glassware.

Yet the punter didn't seem at all bothered, assuming he even noticed the mistake. And anyway, from a distance - particularly with my eyesight going the way it is - even I'd be hard-pressed to tell Magners over ice from its UK-pressed rival.

In the absence of any comment from the customer I very nearly leaned over and said something to the barman, but the pub was mightily busy and I didn't want to cause a scene. And I wanted to get served.

Minutes later, still fizzing with indignation, I returned to my mates who were drinking outside and told them what I had just witnessed. Surely they would share my ire. Hardly, as it turned out. Their reaction? Sheer and utter indifference. Not a spark of interest. Zilcho.

I then looked around at who had what drink in their hands. A pint of London Pride was housed in a Spitfire glass and a Stella in a Carlsberg one. Me? I was drinking Staropramen, but at least I had hit the branded glass jackpot.

The thing is, while I ranted about the subject my friends said they weren't in the least bit bothered about what the drink came in, so long as it tasted OK. You can't argue with that - or rather you can, but in the case of my mates you'd be wasting your breath.

Perhaps I'm barking up the wrong tree - or just plain barking.