I had to go to one of those boring, happy-clappy Work Conferences earlier this week. They’re supposed to boost morale and remind you what a great job you have.

It’s no expense spared – lovely menu in a lovely venue. But all I was looking forward to was the piss up in the evening. It was free alcohol after all.

All day we had ‘equality’ and ‘diversity’ shoved down our throats but I still don’t understand it. Apparently, we’re all the same but we’re all different. Or something like that.

After the Q and A session at the end (no questions unsurprisingly) we all breathed a collective sigh of relief, gathered our things and headed for the pub.

Among us was K, a registered blind person and his Guide Dog. The pub we were going to was a few streets away from the Conference Centre but we found it ok. The first drink was knocked back with gusto followed by the loosening of ties and loosening of lips. I was standing at the bar with a couple of mates.

‘What a load of bollocks today.’

‘It’s PC gone mad.’

‘I know. But it’s a sign of the times we’re living in. Why should anyone have more rights than anyone else?’

‘Shh, K’s over there. He might hear.’

For a while the group fell silent but it didn’t take long for the conversation to return to political correctness, equality and diversity.

I didn’t notice the time slipping by. I was quite happily supping. All of a sudden, it was a quarter to eleven and most people had gone. I wasn’t sure where I was or how to get back. I couldn’t see anyone I knew.

Except K

I wandered over.

‘Alright K,’ I said as I bent down to stroke his dog. ‘I don’t suppose you know the way back to the Conference Centre?’ I asked, half of my tongue in my cheek.

‘Yeah. Sure.’ he replied. ‘ Go out of the door behind and walk up the 26 steps. When you exit the door turn 90 degrees to your left. Walk forward 120 paces and you should come to a road. Cross over and after another 50 paces turn left again. Keep walking for three minutes at the same speed and then stop,’ he continued.

He couldn’t see me, of course, but I was stood there, open mouthed.

‘Turn to the right and cross over the road and the Conference Centre should be 70 or so paces further down,’ he finished.

‘Cheers K, ‘ I said, taking his hand and shaking it.

See, if you’re lost or don’t know where you are, sometimes you should ask a blind man for directions.