I have a pub I visit sometimes, and as I walk in the barkeep turns around and gets a Carlsberg for me. It's a great feeling, pretty royalty-like.

If there's a stranger at the bar, they look at me like I own the place or something. Plus I run a tab there, so I just say, "Thanks, Neil," and walk off with the bottle to chat with the DJ (standard routine). Makes for some long looks my way.
The odd thing is - there may be months between visits, but it happens like it was all staged; not a beat missed.
Ah! Don't we love that kind of attention.. . .
Decided to take another break (El Capitan and the 787B Stealth has me by the throat - damn you, Kaz) and it's more cups of tea and a bunch of walnuts. The fact that they look like brains is weird; I feel like a zombie.
And why do they call our heads 'nuts', anyway?