The Pub Bore "Dave"

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Picture the scene. You’re at the pub, right? You’ve got your pint, your crisps, your mates. It’s Friday night, spirits are high, someone’s just put “Come On Eileen” on the jukebox. And then he walks in. You know the one. Beige trousers. Sensible shoes. Looks like he’s been laminated. And he starts talking. Ohhh he starts talking…

 “I’ve just switched energy providers. Got a cracking deal on dual fuel. You wouldn’t believe the tariff…”

Tariff?! You’ve barely got your coat off and he’s hitting you with tariff! You came out for a laugh, not a lecture on kilowatt hours!

And it’s not just that. Oh no. He’s got graphs. On his phone. Wants to show you his smart meter readings. “Look at this spike in usage when I boiled the kettle. Fascinating, innit?”

No, Dave. It’s not. It’s a kettle. It boils. That’s its job. It’s not the bloody Large Hadron Collider!

Then he moves on to his new shed. “Got it from B&Q. Pressure-treated timber. Weatherproof. Hinges like you wouldn’t believe.”

Hinges?! You’re three pints in, trying to flirt with the barmaid, and he’s banging on about hinges! You’re not in a shed, Dave. You’re in a pub. The only thing that should be swinging open is the door to your round!

And the worst bit? He thinks he’s being interesting. He’s got that look. That smug, “I’m enriching your life” look. Like David Attenborough, but with less wildlife and more laminate flooring.

You try to escape. You fake a phone call. You pretend to choke on a scampi fry. But he follows you. Like a boring homing pigeon. “You alright, mate? I was just saying about my new composting system…”

Composting?! You’re dying inside. Your soul’s left your body. You’re astrally projecting to a better conversation. One about anything else. Toenail fungus. Tax returns. The history of grout. Anything!

And then, just when you think it’s over, he says the words. The final nail in the conversational coffin:

 “Anyway, enough about me. What do you think about the new recycling bins?”

You don’t. You don’t think about them. You never have. You never will. Because you’re not boring, Dave. You’re just trying to bloody well enjoy  life!



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