Chris Maclean: A problematic regular

I am afraid one of my regulars is a bit of a problem. He's a good old boy and he's eighty-five. He used to come in three times a week but his health is failing and he can only make one trip out, on a Friday night.

He worked for the brewery for thirty five years and, as a token of their respect, he is entitled to a free pint every time he comes in.

Like many elderly widowed men, he is lonely. He looks to the pub as a source of comfort and solace, as he lives alone and he likes a chat. But the problem is that he doesn't listen to people, rather he talks at them.

His modus operandi is this; when he spots someone, preferably a group, between his seat and the lavatories he will prepare himself then launch towards the toilets ostensibly for a call of nature. But his real purpose is to talk at them. Every time it is the same approach - "Are you local?" Immediately, with total disregard to the answer, he launches into "I'm not, I'm from Hampshire" (people from Hampshire, I'm sure you're not all like this). Then he explains his arrival here, his career, and his war time experience. He's finally stopped bringing his medals in. But he has a pocket full of photos, letters and love poetry. Tragic and touching stuff. Anyone who shows him disrespect must have a heart of stone.

But I see people coming in here for the first time, chatting innocently, then being collared and lectured at for twenty minutes. Too often I see them gulp their drinks and make for the door. He says he is only being friendly. I see it as driving my customers out.

I once read the best definition of a bore. It is a person who deprives you of the pleasure of solitude without giving you the benefit of company.

If I live to be eighty-five I want to be like him - I want to go down the pub and collar people to tell them who I once was. And I want to watch the landlord squirm with the dilemma I face right now. Marvellous!