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.’
