My friend, the bad storyteller.
April 28, 2009 § 16 Comments
I have a friend, let’s call him friend A. Yes, I know that comes to you as a surprise but I do have a friend. The fact that I have to pay him a fee to rent his friendship is besides the point, the point is I am like you. I have someone I call buddy.
Unfortunately there is one thing that troubles me about him. He is a horribly atrocious storyteller. I thought I was bad, but man, A sucks! If there were an Olympics for worst storyteller in the world he would win gold. No contest. Allow me to tell you one of his stories – word for word.
Once upon a time, my good friend A and another friend (who shall remain friend B for the purposes of this story) were chatting about random stuff. Anyway, to cut a long narrative short, A interrupts us and says, “Guys, did you watch the news last night?”
“No,” we say.
“Well, there is this rich guy in France.” Pause. “He’s in trouble.”
Even more silence.
I suddenly come to the realisation that that’s all there is to the story. “There is this rich guy in France. He is in trouble.” That’s it. No more.
“Is that it?!” I ask with incredulous irritations. He nods.
One thing I gotta give him though is that he sure tells a memorable pointless story. After all these years, six years to be precise, I still remember it. “There is this rich guy in France.” Pause. “He is in trouble.”