Everyone’s a winner

"Duran Duran."

"The Groover from Vancouver is Bryan Adams."

"Cats."

"Errol Brown was the lead singer of Hot Chocolate."

I arrived at the pub quiz five minutes late, having rushed as fast as I could from Chinatown. The first round was almost over when I sat down at the table, and added seven answers to the sheet without even hesitating. It was wet, and Rain Man was back. Back from the 1980s, given my ability to flawlessly answer questions about Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals and soft Canadian rock.

After that initial success our performance being to trail off – maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the revolting pizza I ate, perhaps it was our collective shame from the picture round when we misidentified Mark Twain as Albert Einstein. When it got to the last round, we lost all our points by guessing the Olympic motto ("druggier, dodgier, sleazier") was originally in French when, as should have been obvious, it was in Latin, like all mottos.

Half way through there was a bonus round, which I won by yelling out "Audrey Hepburn!" which probably is the winning choice in lots of situations. So we did at least get a jug of beer.

I was distracted by the American Football game being shown on the TV over the bar. It was from this Monday’s Saints vs Ravens game, and there was quite a good shoving match between two of the tame football ogres, when one pushed the over off the pitch. Not as amazing to watch as an ice hockey punch up, but enough. I was trying to figure out how many white stripes there are on the American flag, to win more beer, and strangely it seems that at an American Football game there are very few American flags. There’s a tiny one on the back of their helmets, but it’s hard to see when the players are pummelling one another.

I only had one beer, still felt less than wonderful, hiked home again, sweaty and sore-throated, desperate for sleep, or to recount the glories of the evening to my wife. She was recovering from the shell-shock of dealing with our daughter, who’d taken an hour to go to sleep tonight. Maybe I should have taken her out for bad pizza and questions about music from the Eighties.

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