Question time... (From Gazette & Herald)

Question time...

HANNAH 'social recluse' GIBBONS is hoping for an invite to a party night...any offers?

CURRENTLY the stress, strain and rubbishness of my life has turned me into a social recluse.

There is no time for parties and going out and what-not - I've become a slave to my UCAS form, and intimately involved with my A-levels.

Well, that's not quite true - if someone invites you to a party, then I maintain that it's the height of rudeness to decline on the grounds of work - what a feeble excuse that looks like!

But, alas, on other social fronts, I've toned it right down, and the result has left me at home for the past two Friday nights blowing air loudly out of my nostrils in an angry horse sort of way to remind the family that I could and should be somewhere else.

Frankly, they weren't keen on my insolence and suggested the pub quiz at our 'local' as a punishment (see, I'm picking up the lingo).

The pub quiz? No thanks - though I've heard about its charms before, it's always remained somewhat of an enigma - are there really people whose sole objective in life is to be the pub quiz master? Why would you want to spend your free time exercising your brain? How is anyone supposed to know how many bolts were needed to build the Eiffel Tower? But my probing questions were answered as Team Gib was born, a highly organised group of professionals - that is, looking to become professionals at the pub quiz.

Honestly, Team Gib were on tip-top form, with their perfect mix of old wisdom and youthful enthusiasm. Who invented the bouncing bomb? Which Teletubby is purple? Oh we were good, very good, second place good! And on our first attempt, too. You pub quiz regulars be warned - we'll be back for more.

It took me all week to get over that giddy excitement and then, glory be!

The very next Friday another opportunity arose for me and the yokels - a 'Virgin Vie' party in Rillington's finest inn.

An evening of make-up testing and dry roasted peanuts - and not only was there testing, but modeling opportunities too.

I sported a slinky little necklace (and clothes!) to prance around the room in, but these were good women, and I wasn't going to lie.

"Well it's a bit heavy, perhaps a little plastic feeling, and the colour is truly horrendous isn't it?"

Virgin Vie lady wasn't awfully keen on my marketing techniques and so my modeling dreams were dashed from the very beginning, but no matter.

I let others do the selling, and sell to me they did - "After all, I'm only spending what I would if I were out in York... and wanted to see if I could drown in vodka."

The mind boggles at the prospect for tomorrow night's entertainment - shall we go and try to better ourselves at the quiz, or travel a little further afield in search of a karaoke night or similar?

I dread the time when my UCAS is done and dusted and I have to resume my former, mundane social life once more.

Updated: 12:43 Wednesday, October 19, 2005