A small drinks reception preceded the formal dinner - dickie-bows, these days, although women are excused. A thirsty Mike O'Malley, Labour's most excellent provost, was overcome by the heat and sought more refreshment.
He sauntered over to the wine table but met a negative response. "I'm sorry, sir, there's a limit of one glass."
"Listen, son," O'Malley curtly replied. "I'm paying."