Quizzical

In am an avid listener to the Popmaster quiz on the Ken Bruce show on Radio 2. Every morning, around 10.30, I sit there with my headphones on listening online, trying to not allow my answers and my frustration with the contestants to escape from my lips. I’m not awfully good at remaining silent though: one of my colleagues says I sound like I have “musical Tourette’s”.

Today, I top-scored with 39 points. I have never done that before. The ‘real’ contestant only got nine. It was all I could do to rein in my frustration and stop myself screeching at his idiocy. I mean, everyone knows the Easybeats originally recorded Friday On My Mind and Paul Hardcastle's 19 was a hit in 1985. Don’t they?

I cannot stop myself screaming at the telly when Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? is on. It frustrates me when contestants use their lifelines so early – they should keep them for when they really need them instead of squandering them on simple questions.

I admit I am very competitive when it comes to quizzes; I hate to lose. Years ago, a housemate and I shared an obsession with Trivial Pursuit; I am a tiger at Triv. We played it repeatedly, until the questions kept coming round again and again, and it seemed rather futile to continue.

Once, I worked with a bloke who had made his living playing quiz machines in pubs. He had been banned from a number of venues for cleaning out the electronic quizmasters. He was in his 30s, lived with his parents, was spookily quiet and lacking in social skills. He probably ate encyclopaedias for breakfast.

My general knowledge isn’t quite as extensive as the encyclopaedia-eater's was. It’s trivia that I adore and I seem to have the sort of brain that collects useless snippets of information. I just wish I were as good at remembering the important stuff.