Drinking with the enemy

"Our last Conservative branch meeting was dire. Bloody infighting took up most of the evening."

"I know what you mean. Bloody committees. Pint?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"There you go. It's always the same voices at our Labour branch meetings. Love to hear themselves speak. Cheers."

"Cheers."

"It's the bloody procedure-speak that drives me nuts. 'Through the Chair, Comrade N has seniority, Point of Order, Rule Ninety-Four Sub-Section Eleventy-Seven...' Know what I mean?"

"Hah. Not our style, thank God. We stick to the normal sort of committee behaviour but we don't use crapspeak - just get on with it and talk normally."

"Seriously? None of that Composite Submission Subject to Ratification sort of tedium?"

"Nope."

"It must be a sort of Left thing, then."

"Reckon so, mate. Comfort thing, maybe? Placating the Super-ego with punctiliousness?"

"Get stuffed. Anyway, you're being a bit bloody polite aren't you? You mean we Socialists are anal."

"Well, yeah."

"Hmff. Your round."

"Same again?"

"No, I'll have a Scotch this time. Ta."