Every man and his dog descends on the pub, ordering complicated drinks, their Guinness last and thinking you're a psychic by knowing what their mate's sister's husband's aunt wants.
Then, a lovely yet slightly irritating drinking begins to put his booze order in.
You pleasantly serve him, (with a smile, of course) and he tells you his life story. I'm talking from the day he was born.
While we are always sympathetic to those who have had a difficult time, when you're trying to serve 30,000 people at once, this isn't always the best opportunity to make chit-chat.
And, while you may want to shove a beer towel in this forlorn customer's mouth, you have just run.
Sorry pal, come back in the morning.