A long time ago, in another life, I owned a pub in a country town. It was a quiet pub and had Highway frontage. We used to get some strange customers - but none as strange as THIS day.
A piece of Tarmac came into the pub , orders a drink and announces that he is the hardest piece of tarmac in the land.
Just then a piece of Dual carriageway walks in, orders a drink and announces that he is the hardest piece of Dual carriageway in the land.
Then a piece of Motorway walks in , orders a drink and announces that he is the hardest piece of Motorway in the land.
Just then a piece of coloured Tarmac walks in and all the other supposedly hard pieces of Tarmac turn to avoid eye contact.
Upon this our barman asked the Tarmacs what is wrong, the reply "we're not drinking with this bloke - he's a cyclepath."