politely declined the invitation. About thirty souls department had organized a "quiz night " in a nearby pub where the supreme leader, grateful for our selfless dedication, he left the paid account. Bribe, call it elsewhere.
Not that I disliked the plan but it was not a question of getting a distress call from my mate in the midst of the revelry to stop cheering for the mother in the hospital with one drink at a time so prescribed. Common sense would say about. Wimp, who whisper and others.
A quiz is a quiz on general knowledge questions. The concurrence of the pub is divided into groups paid one or two pounds per head, someone reads the questions microphone in hand and each team will complete their Post with replies. When they finish the questions, exchange leaves the pub read the answers and equipment are fixed to each other. Of course, no cheating. Fair play . What a great civiilización. The awards are usually a small amount in cash, a box of wine or similar.
wonder the game shows like "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire ( Who Wants to Be a Millionaire ) or" The Weakest Link "(The Weakest Link ) are very popular in the UK. The quizzes are a quintessential British pastime, and people read it boasts and illustrated it. I said that the Trivial Pursuit, the board game version, is the product intermediate between the pub and what we see on TV.
The questions are like: "Who was the first black mayor of London?" "What was the name of the first Russian submarine killed in World War II?" Or "How many hamburgers can be made with a horse?". Discussions between question and asked quietly run and there is some animosity between the teams. I attest that people take very seriously these contests, more than once a Spaniard confused, tired of his own ignorance, has tried to boycott the contest with funny comments aloud to the angry eyes of those present and veiled threats physical integrity.
I have participated in some of these " quiz nights" because it happened that I was in the pub at the time of its conclusion, rather than explicitly seek their assistance. I remember with pride my introduction to the Olympic competition.
was reading the newspaper at a pub in Edinburgh, after a sleepy day at work, when he approached the pub landlord and asked if quieria join a group to participate in the quiz that night. Why not, I thought. Half an hour later I was regretting this hasty decision.
's strong Scottish accent and I did not understand little knowledge of history and local news were undermining my intellectual interest in the little game. So, as trasncurrÃa the contest, I left the pints of beer and draw that smile so common in those who try to hide that they are not finding out what's going half the mass and look like they are put there by the municipality, as the streetlights.
finally ended question time, and after the counting of the answers, my team had won the first place tied with another team. Would have one more question to settle the tie. What a thrill.
The question echoed through the pub was altavaces: "What English singer was internationally successful football club goalkeeper of Real Madrid?" After initial confusion, my computer eyes rested on me, while my own, drunk, was set at the lights of a slot machine so boring it was that boring.
won the contest and, consequently, the first prize: a box of thirty-six bottles of beer. I remember that I got half a dozen of these in the pockets of his coat and they headed toward me home, lest it be not accurate with road. It looked like a Swiss cow. For the clink of glasses, that is.
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