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Monday 6 April 2009

The problem with Brendan...

"Brendan!", I shrieked with all the panic of the residents of an Indian Ocean island facing into the unforgiving horror of a Tsunami. I am a little dramatic it has to be said.

Except it wasn't a Tsunami, it was Brendan. Brendan is a Tsunami all the same, a Tsunami in a musty greeny browny sweater and much like a Tsunami he leaves you washed out, utterly devastated and wishing you had just stayed at home. And he was rolling towards me and I had no chance of escape.

I do not like Brendan or his visits to the restaurant as Brendan has a problem.

the Gatling Brendan Machine Gun....

It's not, just, his frighteningly large collection of sweaters that dogs appear to have slept in nor is it his constant misinterpretation of the waiter/guests relationship (I really didn't need to know about his recent bowel trouble) nor is it his complete inability to regulate the level of his voice (he's like Cillit Bang's Barry Scott crossed with Dinny Byrne), he is so loud that the last time he ordered the lamb the kitchen had it started before I had even written the order up.

No Brendan's problem is so much more annoying than any those. They could be considered little foibles, eccentricities, quirks if you will by comparison to his major malfunction. For you see Brendan suffers from tourettes. Not the "feck, girls, arse and bum" type of tourettes that one might witness in the street from the jovial chaps who sit on park benches ruining the view for the rest of us and not the type of tourettes that gets you your own documentary show on channel four either.

Brendan suffers from that most manly of diseases - the inability to respond to a simple question with a simple answer. He is relentless. Unbearably so. Like a Gatling machine gun he fires out the lamentably poor one liners and putrid puns hitting everyone that comes with in close proximity. Dining with him must be like eating with an unfunny Rodney Dangerfield.

"Ah good evening Brendan, how are you?" I asked with an obviously weary tone.

"Sure aren't you looking at me?!", he says all boomy and at the same time lilty. I mean what does that even mean?

Ignoring him I carried on with, "Table for two is it?"

Brendan looked to his left and then to his right, mimicking Travis Bickle, and says, "No, there's forty of us!"

Asshole.

And so it continued for the rest of his two hour plus visit.

"How would you like your steak good?"

"In a pan"

Asshole.

"Would you like to taste the wine?"

"Noooo leave it there and I'll ingest it without tasting it."

Asshole.

"Did you enjoy your meal?"

"Noooo" says he beaming up at me with his plate emptied and quite obviously he had gone round the edge of it with his finger too the dirty beast.

The thing is you don't even have to ask him a question to get a silly answer/comment. For example cleaning an empty table near him is like a red rag to a fat musty greeny browny bull, "Ya missed a bit" he says whilst laughing like he is on stage at the Oscars.

Asshole.

The thing is I blame myself for encouraging him. The first time I served him he was already known to waiter chum number one who said he was an okay sort of chap. I took this at face value and listened to his boring little stories and tedious puns and even faked laughed at all the right places too. He has taken this as a green light to continue. Which is frankly disappointing.

But it gets worse.

He cant sit in his seat in the standard position the way most adults do, that is to say looking forward at the person sitting in front of him. Oh no our Brendan sits at a jaunty and carefree angle that allows him to see and comment on anything and anybody in his eye line and his eyes are always moving. I happened to seat a seemingly quiet table of three women beside him on his last outing thinking that this would calm him down a bit, I was sure that he would reign in the hilarity horses around strangers.

Not a bit of it and within twenty minutes it had become one table of five instead of a two and three. Oh yes Brendan is quite the ladies man and the fact that he was with his wife didn't seem to concern him. He was buying drinks and insisting on paying for their dinner. They politely declined but he insisted saying that he was a banker and could afford it. I had to ask him again what he did for a living as I was sure he had said something else.

He knew what I meant.

Apparently he was transfered North from the Dublin office. I wonder why! If familiarity breeds contempt then aloofness will restore respect. Either that or a few fake "I'm sorry we're full" will.

29 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

Anonymous said...

It's a cruel paradox. People who think they're interesting/funny aren't.

I used to work with someone like that. Slightly different in her case as she wasn't in any way funny but thought everything she said, which was a lot, was extremely interesting.
She looked and spoke like Catherine Tate, except was boring as fuck.

I feel your pain.

Manuel said...

99 words: that's so true...and the more they talk the less interesting they are.....hopefully he will feel my pain soon....in the neck....with a fork...

Anonymous said...

Ugh. People like that make me want to scream "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! NO ONE LIKES YOU!" Of course, I don't, but just once, I'd really like to.

Sorry you had to deal with such a dolt.

Manuel said...

sassy: I like to think he is ill.....it;s the only rational explanation.....

Megan McGurk said...

Grin-fucking for two hours is hard work. What's his wife like?
Doormat?

Manuel said...

medbh: no....deaf in one ear for sure, if not yet she will be soon, but she seems totally aloof to his shenanigans.....as if she has seen it so many times before it doesn't bother her....

Anonymous said...

yap-tastic AND annoying? musty jumpers, reeking of dog? (sigh) i'm in love... shame he's taken...

ps: just took the 'office' pic. will try to get that up this week from the road...

Manuel said...

daisy: isn't he a catch?! and whoop whoop on the other thing!!!

savannah said...

you almost wnat to feel sorry for him...ok, not really! ;) xoxo

(i had a desk pciture, but all you could see was my wine glass and the laptop screen)

Anonymous said...

Poor guy probably had a strange childhood. Lucky someone bothers with him at all.

Jenny said...

let me guess, no one like him when he was on the playground either.

Manuel said...

savannah: you get that desk picture sent....please!!!!

steve: yes well.......why does it have to be me? why!!!

boxer: we are still talking about brendan eh? .....not me.........right?

Gavin Parks said...

Poor Brendan. He sounds like a hoot, and there you are lambasting and criticising the poor old fella. Forshame Manuel.

White Rabbit said...

One day you should just stop laughing at his jokes and see what he does

Manuel said...

gavin parks: arse....poor Brendan? Poor Manuel more like.....you just don't know man, you just don't know......[sobs into hankie]

le nord: that's pretty much the plan.....cold shouldered, snubbed, ignored.....ha!

Unknown said...

Hit him up for a loan, see how funny he is then!

Manuel said...

conan: it;s funny you should say that as it's the one bloody subject he doesn't have an opinion on......banking!

banker...

Jill said...

Back again? Well done you.

Belfast Plate Carrier said...

If he has bowl trouble then you should take care of that. If he was bowel trouble on the other hand, well that's a different matter entirely.

Manuel said...

Jill: yes it was rough but I'm back......

BPC: damn it damn it damn it.....meh, and it was you that spotted it.....in my defense I was tired when I wrote it....

Barlinnie said...

Seat him next to me just the once. I've been told I do a marvelous 'stare of death' when faced with the eejits.

The Mistress said...

I finally had to start saying "no" when a similar dickhead kept asking if I wanted to hear a joke.

It seems that my feeble smile and painfully weak "heh" didn't give him enough of a hint.

Manuel said...

jimmy: take photo of said stare.....send it to me......I'll cut it and make a mask just for such occasions....

mj: what is it with people ? what? It meh's me so.....

Anonymous said...

That behaviour sounds rather familiar round here.

... Storms into offices without knocking, talks over every sentence even answers to his questions, and batters out short unfunny comments like a road drill in your head, then exits quickly and abruptly. Leaving one feeling bewildered and somewhat enraged...

Dick.

Manuel said...

waxy dan: it's not cool or called for....

Tuesday Kid said...

I've known far too many Brendans in my time. That's why I'm unemployed it's harder to get tied to their company.

B said...

doesn't he kinda sound like me?

Native Minnow said...

I faked like I had Tourrette's once. I kept it going for a whole week. My friends tell me I'm going to Hell. Probably, but it was funny.

Anonymous said...

Try staring blankly and then saying, `I don`t get it` or `I don`t understand`. Make him explain. In detail. Never show you understand what could be funny. Not a tough task since he isn`t...
He will tire of you since you are obviously not getting his delightful humour.
I`ve shut down many an idiot in this manner.

Please, please don`t comment and say you don`t get it. I`d rather face the stabbing fork than your disdain.

Lisa