It had been a while since I had visited Café Nob but when I finally had the time to go back, I jumped at the chance.  Nob was there, of course, and he seemed pleased to see me.  I ordered my usual – a plate of home-fried chips and a big mug of tea – and soon we were chatting like old friends do.

‘So, what’s this obbsession with pies all about?’ I asked.

Nob seemed to have no idea what I was talking about, and said as much.

‘Every time I visit I see the same thing: your customers tucking in to pies.  It’s as if that’s all they eat.’

Nob shrugged.  To be honest, I was amazed he could achieve such a feat without arms, or shoulders.  Okay, perhaps it was not a shrug really but it gave the same impression.

‘They just like pies,’ he said.  ‘You eat a lot of chips.  Are you obsessed with them?’

Yes, I thought, but not in a must-have-chips sense.

‘Well,’ I said.  ‘No, not exactly.  I like chips but I can give them up any time I want.’

Nob nodded.  ‘We are the same.  We are not obsessed with pies, and sometimes we don’t eat them.’

‘Fair enough,’ I conceeded.

‘In fact,’ said Nob.  ‘Just last week, I had a bun.’