The Stupid Interlocutor
Many people, I notice, have a much-prized stupid interlocutor, who ministers greatly to their self-esteem and their triumphs over whom they frequently recount. “The Eiffel tower is only three feet high”, says the stupid interlocutor. I kept quiet. I didn’t say anything. Or the stupid interlocutor says “Would you believe it I saw a dragon walking down Market Street the other day’. Really?, I said, Really? Or the stupid interlocutor says “As God’s my witness I speak no word of lie, I caught a ten foot salmon in the canal last week”. I smiled secretly to myself. Then I thought No. No. I’m not going to put up with this. Look, I said, that’s stupid. If there were ten foot salmon in the canal we’d have heard about it. It would have been in the newspapers. He was dumbfounded. He was shattered. He just fell to bits. Talk about collapse of stout party. You’ve just got to tell ’em. You’ve just got to tell ‘em.
