Just a Little Trivia

Nothing makes you realize how little you know about the world like attending a trivia night at a local pub every Tuesday.

I’ve always been mildly insecure about my general knowledge, not because I was homeschooled, but because when you are homeschooled everyone else finds it endlessly fascinating to quiz you constantly. Sure, I know what 8 x 6 is, but if you hurl the question at me while I’m helping my mother make dinner, I’m just going to stare at you like an idiot until you declare the time to be up.

Nevertheless, I find trivia nights with my friends to be a great experience, generally because a lot of the things they ask you can’t be faulted for not knowing.

“Who was the last Miss America winner?” they will ask, or, “What football coach is known for chicken-dancing across the field to confuse the opposing team?” and then you and your friends can all exchange blank glances because you’re all nerds and you can name 38 elves from Tolkien’s universe but have never willingly subjected yourself to a sportsball game.


Do you know who any of these people are? I bet you do if you’ve been living somewhere that isn’t a farm in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho!

Now, we have a broad range of people on our team, which is usually at least five people and often up to ten. We have teachers, computer science specialists, literature and film buffs, a homeschooled farm girl from Idaho… we’ve got it all. And yet, surprisingly, we still regularly come in perhaps 9th place out of 15.

(This is partially due to the resident genius, “Clive,” who attends our board game meetup but won’t play for our team, dammit.)

But that’s all right. No one cares (not the least of which is because we wouldn’t know what to do with all the beer if we won). I can’t say for certain, but I wager it’s because everyone gets along so smashingly and most of them have had a few drinks (“most” being “everyone else, as they are all over 21”).

And so every Tuesday I sit here amongst the squabbles of children, safe in the happy knowledge that in just thirteen short hours I can escape work and drive the forty minutes it takes to get into a pub and promptly lose their contests. There’s no better feeling in the world.


Except the feeling when I can someday drink more than water at the bar. Not that I really want to; just the knowledge that I can will suffice.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s