“Bloody hell. Did you see the girl who walked in with Nigel?”
“Nice catch, huh? Not even half his age. How old is he?”
“62. We did that thing with the 62 pints, remember?”
“Not much… Well, I’m only 59. I need to know his secret. Hey! Nigel! Next round is on me, mate!”
Nigel smiled. When his granddaughter said she worked near the pub, he was reluctant to invite her for a beer. His mates could be real pigs sometimes. But they were treating him with respect, no? Buying drinks and everything. Maybe they weren’t that bad after all.