House of Commons bar brawls: When drinks are half-price, it's easy for MPs to get half-cut Eric Joyce, the MP for Falkirk, was arrested this week after allegedly behaving in the Strangers" Bar of the House of Commons like a British heavyweight at a post-match press conference. It is claimed that he assaulted a number of fellow legislators, including one whom he engaged in a headbutt. Or as it is known among his constituents, a Glasgow kiss. It is suspected that his ire was sparked by the fact that the bar was "full of Tories." Quite what he was expecting in a parliament not exactly short of conservative representation is unclear. Perhaps he was hoping to share his after-work sharpener with a bar full of rap singers, bell ringers or members of the Women's Institute. But then, if it had been a bar full of rap singers, bell ringers or members of the Women's Institute, one thing is for sure: they would all have been paying more for their favoured tipple. Mr Joyce is a beneficiary of one of the most subsidised facilities in British public life. In the Strangers" Bar it costs but £2.55 for a tot of Scotch or a measure of Cointreau, while a glass of Merlot comes in at a thirst-inducing £2.35. No wonder MPs are often accused of being out of touch with ordinary life. Whenever one of their constituents asks them how much a pint of bitter costs, they cheerfully reply "£2.40." Which, as anyone who has ventured into such an institution recently will tell you, will buy less than a half in many a London pub. Now, nobody could argue that MPs should be denied a drink. It is only fair, with round-the-clock debate part of the working life, that they can unwind in a convenient location on the premises. Besides, all that legislating can be demanding on a throat. Anyone subject to prolonged exposure to John Bercow's vocal delivery needs fortifying. What is more, many a Commons reputation - from George Brown to Alan Clark - was forged on the back of Dutch Courage. Which, in the case of Brown, came from consuming rather more than the entire population of Amsterdam before attending a parliamentary session. But, while they deserve a chance to relax, surely they should be paying much the same for their liquid hobby as those they represent? While MPs appear keen to pass legislation to stop the rest of us benefiting from the cheap booze available at our local supermarket, how come they entitle themselves to bevvies at prices lower even than those at Tesco? And make no mistake, the reason that rounds can be bought on the cheap in the Strangers" Bar is because you and I provide the wherewithal. The taxpayer subsidy for the Commons catering service, which runs the building's bars, rose to £5.8 million last year, despite promises to reduce the cost of refreshing MPs. It meant that for every £10 an MP spent on food and drink, the taxpayer added a top-up of £7.60. More than enough for a six-pack at your local Aldi. And this, remember, is on top of their expenses. You may recall the generosity of the Commons" expenses regime. To take as one example, in 2007-08, a single MP claimed £187,334 in parliamentary expenses. Last year, this same representative became the first to claim more than £200,000. And his name? Eric Joyce. That was presumably what he was doing in the Strangers" Bar that infamous night: toasting his significant luck in being so lavishly underwritten by mug taxpayers.