Creatures of habit

I've just come back from another good evening with an old friend.  We met ten years ago when she was my boss at the chicken factory. Ever since we've been great friends and spent many a good evening arguing over a rum and coke or two.  We argue over politics (strongly disagree), religion (agree), capital punishment (disagree, but I think I'm winning her round).  On paper we have nothing in common, yet we always get on.  Her optimism and sense of humour never fail to inspire me.  Every time we meet we go to the same pub, followed by the same restaurant and we're never bored by it.  Infected with alcohol-induced enthusiasm, we hatch plans for trips to Berlin, documentary making in Cuba and a dozen ways to make our fortune.