93 Men in a Boat [54] : The Proud Grandmother

We’ve all met one, haven’t we? The proud grandmother who just can’t wait to tell you all about how wonderful her grandchildren are. Now you might these these people are mightily boring, but clever people like her who talk loudly in restaurants will tell you different!

There we are having dinner, sat at a nice table for two by the window when off she goes. Why would that bother us when we are sat on our own? Well, she might be three tables away but she’s got an audience of 7 other people sitting with her and she does want any of them to miss any of the details, so naturally all the rest of us have to listen as well.

She’s got three grandchildren and they’re all wonderful. They’ve all been to Oxbridge and they’ve all got firsts. One in history, one in geography and one in the Arts. Wowza! And what did they do with those wonderful degrees, we all wonder? Well one is a social worker and the other two are chartered accountants! On hearing the latter, I nearly choke on my coffee from being unable to suppress a laugh – basically because I’m used to be an accountant before I retired. And I only have ‘O’ levels to my name…

Of course all her grandkids have wonderful families. They’re all perfect and their children are angelic. Oh heaven!

Afterwards in the bar she regales me with the same story. I stop her short because I’ve already heard it in the restaurant. She looks me up and down and asks me what my grandchildren do for a living. Unfortunately she’s assumed that I’m not really that young, I’m just backdated.

“Oh,” I reply. “My grandchildren don’t work.”

“Well you must be pretty wealthy then if that’s the case!” comes the retort.

“Not at all” says I. “They’re four and seven” and it’s her turn to choke on her coffee…

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5 responses to “93 Men in a Boat [54] : The Proud Grandmother

  1. Touché!

    It's as bad as the fucking ignorant arseholes who shout into mobile phones, letting everyone within a hundred yards hear all the intimate details of their moronic lives. The bastards I hate most are the ones in supermarkets, especially when they're in the checkout queues – the cunts. What the fuck is so important that you have to hold a phone conversation while paying for your groceries?

  2. @Eyesaqwnt….”yeah i will see you later” is the fucking 2 minute phone call at Sainsbury checkout with all the fluffy frilly bollocks cut out of the conversation.

    Proud Grandmothers on cruisers etc are safe in the knowledge all the family arguments/hatred/secrets/disappointments/black sheep of the family are all hidden out of the way of her audience, and thats the way they like it…the bigger the family the more shit there is.

    I have no time for “big mouths” boasting, in the same way overtly religous folk are nothing like the image they are presenting to others.

    Anyway me and the missus have a codeword for avoiding such people who are either too bloody nosey or want you to stand and listen for 25 minutes to their speech “its fucking Ray Betts”…… on that command me or the missus will obey the others instructions without hesitation and do a runner and hide.

    Seriously “Ray betts” is not a word/name used as a joke, its the highest level of warning or alert and is acted upon as such.

    Rickie.

  3. What gets me is the wankers who take their 'partners' out to dinner, and then the fucking pair of them sit there playing with their phones. If I did that, Mrs D would take it off me and shove it up my arse – and I'd deserve it!

    And people who use phones while at the checkout are being just plain disrespectful and rude to the checkout staff. Ignorant bastards…!

  4. People who talk loud in restaurants should be shot in the face, repeatably.

  5. Like they do in Tunisia?