Midland station strangely deserted this morning. More pandemic madness, I thought, but then realised match day's not until tomorrow. Off to The Flying Horse for a pint of porter instead. Hopefully bump into Tubby Johnson.

Busier in town than I expected.

Mind you, should I pop into The Bell for a quick one? Usually a little Beat or jazz combo playing at this time of the day.

Nah - gonna get mesen to The Flying Horse. Haven't seen Tubby in donkeys. Town definitely busier than I expected.

Usually a warm fire and warmer welcome to be had in here. Got a thirst on now.

Mavis is always pleased to see me. "Glass of Mackeson's please, Mavis. Have you seen Tubby around?"
"Oh aye. He's around somewhere. Try in the snug, duck."

Oh gawd. It's Beryl from two doors down. If she gets hold of me, there'll be no end to her tales of her lumbago. "Alright Beryl? Can't stop - meeting Tubby. You ent seen him have you?"
"Ey up Ron. He was here a minute ago. Have I told you..."
"Can't stop, Beryl..."

Wha-hey!
"Alright Tubby? Thought I might find you here."
"Ronald, my dear boy! You're just in time for the bender to end all benders. Are you on board, my old thing?"
"Well, I did tell Marjorie I'd be back for the football results. Always a bit of ham off the bone for Satdy tea."

"She's a fine woman, your Marjorie, but a love for a woman is tied with silken ribbons not wound with war's hard wire as is the love of ex-soldiers."
"Steady on, Tubby. It was only a year's National Service in Aldershot."

"Ah, but what a year, Ron, what a year. I say, do you remember those two ..."
"... I've tried to forget about that business, Tubby. I met Marjorie, remember?"
"Ah yes. A quick route march to the Tavern in the Town? I've heard they've gone all modern."
"Alright. Just one, mind."

"Well, this is rather civilised, Ronnie old boy. Very slick and space age, but it's not for the likes of you and me, is it? We'll have a quick chaser and then onto Yates's. Wha'd'ya say?"
"Just a small one for me."

"Now, this is more like it, Ronald. Some of this sweet wine malarkey will cleanse your palate in readiness for a pint of best at the Sal."
"Yes, it is rather nice, Tubby, and that scratchy violin has never sounded so good."

"Have you seen her, Ron? A bit of all right, or what? Looks like your Marjorie, not that you'd ever get her away from that rough house bloke."

"I've got Marjorie waiting at home, Tubby. She'll be slicing up the cucumber and putting it in a glass bowl of vinegar as we speak."

"Snug as a bug in here, Ron. Mind you, don't like the look of that lot. How about we get down the Palais? It's open now and we might strike it lucky, you never know."
"I'll keep you company for an hour Tubby, but I'm a married man. I've got to be on that last bus."

"Oh yes, Ronnie boy. This is what I'm talking about. Here, hold my drink whilst I take Shirley here for a spin. Have a chat with her pal, there's a good chap."

"So, you're Ron, are you? You seem like a shy one, but I do like a man with a sheepskin coat and Brylcreemed hair."

"Scuse me, duck. I just need to nip to the lav."

I'm looking in the mirror at a man who's got himself into a bit of a pickle.

What should I do?

Dash for the last bus and Marjorie's Satdy tea or see the night out to discover what happens?

You decide in our vote...

What should Ron do?