How not to quiz
Wednesday, December 8th, 2004 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanI knew the quiz was going to be a special one when I arrived.
We won eventually, but in the meantime…
It transpired that paying customers had had the audacity to reserve the room in which we habitually play the game. To be fair Frank the landlord had warned us way back at the beginning of the season that the room was unlikely to be available, and had reserved some seats for us in the back bar.
Now, some five years ago (or thereabouts) when we started using the Royal Oak as our venue, you could have held the quiz anywhere the custom was so sparse. We liked it like that; few people, excellent beer and good food. Of course, word got around and it's very rarely like that nowadays.
We started late: continued troubles on the Northern Line (which are still there this morning), and the closure of Borough Station meant delayed arrivals for several of our opposition team members. The place was crowded and thirteen of us were crammed into a space that would have been tight for eight.
To add to the general jollity, the post-quiz food turned up before the quiz had started, blocking all space on the table. So we started eating it.
Although we were at our usual venue we were the away team in this instance, so all the administration fell to our opponents. We knew we were in for a good one when their captain fell off his chair, refreshed as a ferret. He spilt less than a mouthful of his beer.
The descent into farce continued. Against the general hubbub of a busy hostelry, the opposition selected their quietest spoken member, a man with a thpeech impedimenth to ask the questions.
We stopped after two questions, and ate the rest of the sandwiches.
We won eventually, but in the meantime…
It transpired that paying customers had had the audacity to reserve the room in which we habitually play the game. To be fair Frank the landlord had warned us way back at the beginning of the season that the room was unlikely to be available, and had reserved some seats for us in the back bar.
Now, some five years ago (or thereabouts) when we started using the Royal Oak as our venue, you could have held the quiz anywhere the custom was so sparse. We liked it like that; few people, excellent beer and good food. Of course, word got around and it's very rarely like that nowadays.
We started late: continued troubles on the Northern Line (which are still there this morning), and the closure of Borough Station meant delayed arrivals for several of our opposition team members. The place was crowded and thirteen of us were crammed into a space that would have been tight for eight.
To add to the general jollity, the post-quiz food turned up before the quiz had started, blocking all space on the table. So we started eating it.
Although we were at our usual venue we were the away team in this instance, so all the administration fell to our opponents. We knew we were in for a good one when their captain fell off his chair, refreshed as a ferret. He spilt less than a mouthful of his beer.
The descent into farce continued. Against the general hubbub of a busy hostelry, the opposition selected their quietest spoken member, a man with a thpeech impedimenth to ask the questions.
We stopped after two questions, and ate the rest of the sandwiches.