Last Sunday I Charlene and I were sitting around in Wolfhound. We do this a lot, as if we hash Southside, the On After is there and then there is the quiz. In between there are about six hours to fill. At the beginning, there are lots of hashers and food and darts (which I seldom play as I look like an idiot when I have to ask questions like, "Aim for the 20? Sure thing. Where's that?"). Then people start to drift off to do other things (always making me ponder what exactly it is they all have to do on a Sunday afternoon, as I've got nothing in particular I need to be up to) and it can get a bit tedious waiting around. Wacey can only amuse us by doing back flips in the bar for so long, after all.
So, last weekend we thought we'd, you know, do something and we settled on playing Trivial Pursuit. For about three and a half hours. Yes, it took that long for someone to win - and this is a game played by several people who like trivial bits of information and regularly go to pub quizzes. Why was the damn game so hard? It was the British edition, from the early 90s. Every sports question was about football, rugby, or cricket. Every entertainment question was about Crossroads or Coronation Street.
And then we came across the BEST question ever. "Where does Ariel suck?" was the question. That was it, no more information. The answer was no more enlightening, seeing as it was "where the bees suck." Riiiiight. Thanks to google, I now know that it's a reference to The Tempest, but I have to say, I feel that might be obscure, even to a Brit.
The problem now is that several of my brain cells are now taken up with really useless knowledge about things like that Benny in Crossroads went off to get a spanner for six months without the show ever explaining his absence or that Coronation Street was originally meant to last for thirteen weeks.
I'm an incredibly ditzy, forgetful person and I haven't even hit the age for senility. I really don't have spare brain cells for that sort of thing. However, short of doing something useful with my Sundays, I suppose that's the price I will have to pay.