It was supposed to be Quiz Night, but there wasn’t a single question or answer to be found. Oh dear. The quiz master with the strange Brit accent no-one can understand (really) was ill. So the most popular question “CAN YOU REPEAT THAT PLEASE?” from the audience was not required.
Time for a different question:
“Have you got Trivial Pursuit then?”
“No, but I´ve got dominoes…”
Cliff was the domino king, he´s played professional dominoes all his life. The rest of us were overcome with reminiscing about the fact that none of us had played it since we were kids. Various memories of who we used to play the game with, on what day, and where we were at the time were discussed in detail. Tactics got a mention too, except we´d all forgotten them.
During the course of yet another extremely serious evening:
Bram thought he´d got something stuck in his eye.
Turns out he had, meanwhile the other one must´ve popped out and fallen on the floor somewhere.
30th game. Knockin´ on wood.
A pint of Stella?
Nope, a “Toffee Vodka” shot.
One for each of us, kindly donated by Trevor who carried them out on a tray.
“No,, you can´t have one Helen.”
“Right, well I´ll never come in here and enlighten this establishment with my presence ever again.”
“I was hoping you´d say that.”
“Flattery gets you nowhere.”
“You coming to race night tomorrow then?”
It´s crossed my mind on several occasions, if we made a TV series it could rival the likes of Fawlty Towers. Between us we´ve got all the main characters covered.
Trevor = Basil.
Barmaid Jean = Sybil.
The rest of us are booked in for the night and suffer greatly for it, while laughing at the proprietor.