Imagine a traditional pub, the sort that isn't supposed to exist in a managed estate any more, very close to closing time.
Suddenly the door bursts open as a long-haired git charges in and orders nearly half a gallon of bitter.
Well, that's me, and I do wonder how the house puts up with such an absurd customer. That's also the Nightingale, who's tolerance of weirdos is just one of its many talents.
So how did I come to be one of the privileged people who visit this exceptional pub every day?
By chance I was born in the building next door to pub many decades ago, but it was not until my 18th birthday that I started drinking alcohol.
On that birthday I walked into the most attractive pub in the area and had nearly half a gallon of Special Bitter and except for the odd December 25, haven't had a single night out of a pub since.
I even proposed to my then girlfriend in the pub, but that was in the 1970s and the licensed trade was very different back then.
In this part of South West London we had a stark choice: Young's or fizz. I dislike carbonated liquids and, getting bored with Young's, off I and friends went on a 15-year odyssey of pub crawling that stretched from Brighton to St Albans.
Why did we stop? Quite simply, the trade caught up with us.
Back in the 70s and 80s finding a pub selling decent beer could be hard work.
Today I don't have to travel more than a mile to find 30 or 40 offers of traditional ale.
And the improvement was initiated by the much derided Beer Orders.
Whilst unpopular with thousand of publicans being tied to their suppliers, at least the customer obtained a choice fairly quickly.
The pubcos had seen an opportunity that their six chemically-minded predecessors weren't flexible enough to allow.
I'm fortunate, I live in a prosperous area. Vast swathes of London are still back in the 70s, and it's getting worse. I see hundreds of former pubs and think of the thousands of sofa-dwelling people who've bought their drink in a supermarket.
Sadly, I can't see this changing. The way forward can be for a smaller number of houses to make a quality offer and that must include food.
A clean pub, first class service, a good food offer and, above all, locally sourced ales, are the only way which the trade that I've devoted my adult custom to can prosper. I very much hope that it does.