Quizzing

    Why does Jonny always insist on The Newie when he knows that the pub quiz is on? Every single week it’s the same thing:

Me: DO YOU WANT ANOTHER PINT?

Jonny: WHAT?

Lu: I THINK SHE’S ASKING IF YOU FANCY A PINT.

Me: WELL?

Jonny: NO, I DON’T FANCY HER.

Milo: WHO ARE WE ON ABOUT?

Me: SHOULD I GET ANOTHER ROUND IN

Milo: HAVE I SEEN WHO AROUND? 

    

There are at least three other places along Smithdown that we could go to on a Tuesday night where the ‘quizmaster’ is perfectly happy to speak at a reasonable volume and at a reasonable distance from the microphone. But Jonny, as a Newie purist, believes that the suggestion of anybody other than Dave from Nithsdale Road being the master of ceremonies is an act of heresy punishable by barring. It’s a fucking nuisance - we never even enter the sodding quiz. 

    If I’m honest, I really couldn’t be arsed coming tonight. I knew it was just gonna be the same as last week and the week before that and the week before that et cetera, it was only really because Lu was desperate for a pint that I agreed to come. Her being the one to approach me with the suggestion of a drink is such a rarity (I could genuinely count the amount of times it has occurred on my little finger) that I had to honour it. When it comes to drinking or drugs or fun, Lu basically never makes the first move. That’s not to say she doesn’t enjoy it all - she does - it’s just she usually needs me to make the initial suggestion. Once she’s out though, the woman is on a fucking mission: she’ll take anything you put below her nostrils, she’ll drink you under the table and all the while she’ll seem completely fine. It’s some kind of superpower that I don’t think any of us really understand. 

Lu doesn’t know the guys amazingly well. (Well she does if you count pinging conversations with Milo about the mental health of young people in the modern age; or being carried around on Ed’s shoulders after we decided that it was better to walk home from Kitchen Street in the pouring rain, because three miles didn’t seem “that far”). So I kind of act as the middle-woman between her and them. By now she can understand most of what’s going on in the conversations on her own and doesn’t need too much translating, but she struggles with starting the chat and being confident if she’s not taken anything. I think she must just find the boys intimidating, she’s completely fine one-on-one. That’s where I come in, because I know them all well enough to act as the social lubricant whilst she sips her way through about three pints and loosens up. After those three pints, Lu could talk your ear off about anything. 

I remember the first time I first went over and spoke to her in a seminar we had together late last year. Nobody else seemed to be arsed with discussing whatever it was we were meant to be discussing - Conrad, maybe? - except Lu, who was going for ten minutes at a time without coming up for air. She’s got a real passion for literature. So the two hour seminar essentially turned into a chat between the two of us about our favourite books and after that I suggested we went for a pint (and the rest, as they say…). She’s a really good student and - unlike me - she’s at uni to “get a good grade,” so having her as a mate is useful if I’m struggling with a piece of work, which is most of the time. We’ve become really close since last year and now I’d say she’s probably my closest mate up here. I mean, Milo is obviously a very close second, but he’s not exactly a girl mate: I couldn’t talk to him about how the guy on the bus me made me feel threatened, or how I was worried when my period didn’t come on for ages after I slept with that bloke - he just wouldn’t be able to relate to it properly. 

I introduced Lu to the guys at the beginning of this year and ever since she’s been coming to The Newie pretty regularly. Jonny seems to have the most fun with her because he likes to take the piss out of anyone new and I think he secretly fancies her. He can be a bit of a dick sometimes - which is probably his way of flirting - but I let her know that he’s just kidding and she gets it. I wouldn’t want them to end up together though, God help me. And Milo is just Milo with her: an angel. Literally the loveliest boy in the world. He’s actually pretty shy and doesn’t like talking to new people (unless he’s fucked), but with Lu he’s always polite and tries his best to keep her engaged. Those two getting together, I wouldn’t mind so much.   

 

Anyway here we are, Tuesday night in The Newie, at Lu’s request. It didn’t take much to get all of the boys interested, I only needed to say the letter “p” before they finished the rest of the word and we - well, Jonny - agreed to meet at 8:30 (which, incidentally, is the exact same time as the quiz is due to start). 

Dave has set up his microphone and is doing a soundcheck to make sure that every participant can hear him (too) loudly and (not very) clearly. And just to make sure that all of the equipment is working to its full capacity, he has decided to give us an impromptu performance of Come On Eileen in an effort to get us all through to the opening question. Whether Dave has always a natural propensity for rude adlibs or whether it is just the three empty pint glasses he has on the table next to him, we will never know. All I know I know is that I don’t want to be subjected to any more of them…  

- Jonny please, not here. Can’t we go round the corner where the speaker isn’t shouting in our ears all night?

- I second that. Milo always has my back when it comes to the sound-situation. - I’m sorry, but it’s really annoying hearing Dave try to slur out his questions all night. You’ll still be able to hear it from over there anyway. 

- ‘Kin hell. You guys have zero fucking respect for pub culture. 

- It’s not that we don’t respect it. It’s just we haven’t entered the quiz, so there’s not much point in us sitting right next to where it’s all going on. 

- Yeah. (This is about as much as Lu will say to them before she’s had her three pints) 

- Jesus. I bet when Ed gets here he’ll be gagging to sit next to Dave’s stool. Isn’t that right, Mo, my man? 

- Erm… yeah… I guess, maybe. 

A microscopic wave of shock hits me when I hear Mo’s voice from behind, I had completely forgotten that he’d come in with us. He makes such a non-impression that it’s easy to forget he’s there. The boy is so odd. I have no clue how he became part of the Newie lot, he just kind of appeared one day. He lives with Ed and Chris at Airdale and Ed knows Milo through their course, so that bit makes enough sense in terms of why he exists in my life. But how Ed knows Mo I have no idea, and why Mo suddenly decided to come to the pub regularly with people that he doesn’t bother saying any more than “erm” and “maybe” to, I have even less of an idea. Jonny seems to like him, though, and Mo has become one of his little cronies. The little gang of wrong’uns. I don’t dislike the boy, he’s not done anything to upset me, he’s just really fucking boring.   

So, not registering the opinion of the Kray Twins, I scout around for some vacant seating and notice that the side of the pub where the quiz is not happening is almost empty - not that the side where it is happening is much more lively, it is a Tuesday night in February after all. 

- Should we grab that booth over there if there are gonna be six of us coming? 

- Yeah, good idea.

- Yeah. 

Pulling a face that looks like he’s trying to shit out a tiny brick, Jonny mutters Fuck you and walks over to the bar to drink away his fury. 

 

Pint One: 

    … Welcome, folks. Me name’s Dave and ahm gonne be ye quizmaster this eve… 

    

- Were you guys in uni today then? Milo breaking the ice with a classic. I don’t know why it always needs to be re-broken whenever we take our seats, but for some reason it does. Once we’ve decided where to go and have all got a drink, everyone seems to forget that they’ve come here to socialise and momentarily loses the ability to converse.

- Yeah, our busiest day is Tuesday. I’m always in from eleven till like three. 

- Ha, unlucky. My busiest day is Monday this term and even then I’m only in for about two hours.

Slamming his glass down on the table, Jonny breathes out a carbon-y sigh and prepares himself to launch into a well-rehearsed speech on how we shouldn’t even bother going into uni because the value of a degree in this day and age is blah blah blah blah. 

- I don’t know what the fuck you’re even bothering to go in for if you only have two hours a week. ‘Kin hell, there’s no point in a degree in this day and age. It’s about as valuable as… 

I look at Milo and roll my eyes. Then I look at Lu, who is taking a massive glug from her glass without a sound. This script is the same every time we come to The Newie and it kind of loops around until we’ve had a few, then the debate gets forgotten about and people start spewing off memories of their favourite rave moments: Oh man, you were so fucked that night; Shit, d’you remember how funny it was when he…; Ha, it was so jokes that time that… 

- Oo, here his. Eddy-weddy-woo, my man. You took your ‘kin time, eh. 

 

Pint Three: 

 

    … And tha was the film round. Now, folks, it’s time for the - ha ha, ah see ye Linda, love - now it’s time for us - ha, hiya Liz - to move into general knowledge. Fingehs on bozzehs, please… 

 

    - So, Lucy. Out of all of us, who would you say lasts for the shortest amount of time in the sack?

    - Fucking hell, Jonny. That’s not an image Lu’s gonna want to conjure up. 

    - Ah reckon it’s you Jonny lad. 

    - Fuck off Ed, I didn’t ask you. Jonny is leaning on the table like a cat about to pounce. - Well?

    - Jonny. Lucy must think he’s an absolute arsehole asking questions like this, she’s gone bright red. The poor girl is gonna implode in a second if the boys don’t stop staring at her as if she was a line of coke. I swear Jonny is licking his lips with excitement. 

- What? I’m just asking. 

- Sorry, Lu. 

- No, no. It’s okay. A fair question. Taking an almighty pull on her pint, she leans forward to match Jonny’s posture. 

- Well? 

- Well it’s obviously Ed, isn’t it? He’s a Two-Pump-Tony if ever I saw one. Licking her lips, Lu looks at the table and swills the dregs at the bottom of her glass. She’s got the smirk of a Bond girl on her face. The crowd goes wild.   

- Ha Ha Ha Ha. Did you catch that, Eddy? You little Two-Pump-Pussy. Little bitch boy.

- Fock off, la. Ah’d ‘av you for fockin breakfast.

- And would that be a fast-food breakfast, eh? 

- Fock off. 

- That was ‘kin golden, Lucy. Two-Pump-Tony, genius. 

- What can I say? I just tell it like it is… 

Lucy has got her mojo back.   

 

Pint Five: 

… Question nombeh five of the geography round: What’s the capstisal… capotol… Ca. Pi. Tal… of New Zealand?   

  

    This has turned into a proper Tuesday night out, Jesus. Lu is absolutely killing it. 

- I’ll get it down in ten, Jonny. Watch me. 

    - Will you fuck. 

    - I will.

    - Go on then.

- Yeah, go on Lu. 

    - Okay. Someone get a timer out. 

    - Alright, are you ready? 

    - Wait, just one sec… 

    - Come on. 

    - Okay, ready… 

    

THREE. TWO. ONE. GO.

 

Pint Seven: 

    … And now it’s time for the scores, ladies and ge- No fock off… Ladies and gentleme- No ah’m not gettin’ down, ah’m the quizmaster… The scores, ladies and gentlemen… 

 

    A million conversations happening at once: 

 

Milo: I think I’m gonna head back in a minute, Vi. I’m going out tomorrow so don’t wanna be too hanging.

Ed: Ha, Loocie. D’ye remembeh when ye was on me shouldehs tha night afteh Kitchen Street?

Vi: Yeah me too. I’m pretty tired now, long day.

Lu: Oh my god, yes. That was so scary, you were spinning me around so much.

Ed: Ah could’ve carried ye all the way home lad. 

Jonny: We getting a bag in then? 

Lu: Fuck off, no you couldn’t… 

Mo: …  

Jonny: I’ll text Levi.

 

… And the winnehs this Tuesdee are “It’s only gay if you’re wearing socks” with 55 out of 67 points. If you guys could come op to the front to collect ye prizes, “It’s only gay if you’re wearing socks” …