Jono explains life through graphs 2: the pub bore.

Last month's post, where I explained to my friend how (and if) young men think during break-ups using graphs, was so successful that I decided that graphs can be used to explain a few other truths about the world. In this post I look at pub conversation and how to do it successfully. This can be applied freely to other arenas, but a pub is a microcosm of life and a place where strangers are more likely to indulge in conversation. This is considerably less likely in other places and conversation between two people who actually know each other is more likely to see the diagrammatic circles interlock, as we shall see shortly.

"Oh for fuck's sake, if I wanted to talk about teaching I
could be made miserable by it at home."

How often have you been cornered at a bar by some raving, drooling, drunken, bigotted wanker; or some midget cocooned in their own self-righteousness; or an angry pinko feminist lesbian who seeks to blame the problems of the world on some group that you may have been slightly aligned with politically? Yes, I have been cornered on occasion and these types bravely plough on despite my telling them that I don't care or, in the case of the self-righteous midget who was attempting to convince me that on his first day of university he got his entire class to walk out of their lecture because he knew more than the boffin at the head of the class did about agricultural chemistry, that I don't believe them. Tiresome bores will sometimes appear and in an effort to extricate myself to enjoy some hard-won pub time, I sometimes have to resort to drawing them a graph as to why they should leave me alone.

First, let's look at how successful conversation happens. Imagine you are leaning on the bar with a pint. You managed to find a bit of time your other half doesn't know about and you sup at every precious pub second like a draught of the water of life. Idle conversation with the barstaff breaks out sporadically while you search for inspiration to solve that nagging cryptic crossword clue and then out of the corner of your eye a bloke you never met before, Joe Lunchbox, begins to say something to you. Joe begins his sentence "It was good to see McCullum get some runs at Eden Park yesterday." In a flash this opening gambit offers an insight as to whether the conversation will be successful or not and it all depends on how interesting you find the keywords Brendan McCullum, cricket, or Eden Park. You may have an interest in just one of those things (i.e you don't like cricket, you find Eden Park ugly and boring but you're related to NZ Captain Brendan McCullum or have some photos of him in the shower that he doesn't know about), a mixture or all three. As long as you have some sort of interest, the conversation is away. I now refer you to the first diagram. 

Diagram 1. Successful pub conversation.

In this Venn diagram you will note the two rings. One signifies Joe's attempt to talk to you about Brendan McCullum's double ton against India at Eden Park. The other indicates your interest in all things related to Brendan McCullum, cricket and Eden Park. As long as there is some intersection  between the ventured topic and your areas of interest, then interesting, erudite and informed conversation and debate may flow, even if you don't agree with Joe's support of the contraversial 'three nations' ICC proposal and that you believe he's an idiot for not agreeing that Jonty Rhodes and Chris Harris were the two most exciting and able fielders in the modern game. They plainly were, but discussing this and the topics flowing on from that initial proposal from Joe Lunchbox will seem more edifying than not as long as the two circles on the diagram continue to interlock. 
But what happens if they don't?

Diagram 2. Where interest is non-existent or
suddenly disappears

Let's go back a moment. You look up from your crossword to see that Joe Lunchbox is looking at you and this sentence falls from his foul lips: "I think Kyle Chapman has a point: we should be proud of being white, we built Western civilization and now we need to defend it from the Asian invasion." Your eyebrows join your hairline in concern and you've started looking for where the camera is in case you're being punked. You want no part of this and given half a chance this vile piece of human wreckage will talk at you ad nauseum until you either leave in disgust or attempt to stab yourself in the eye to make it all stop. If we refer to the second diagram, what has happened here is that the circles no longer interlock and we have an indifference zone appear. This may even occur from a position where the circles had interlocked before but interest may have been diverted by boredom, the arrival of something more interesting such as your favourite barmaid/barman*, or you've had a flash of inspiration and you absolutely have to write down the solution to several crossword clues in succession.
*Whatever floats your boat. It's not my place to judge.

These handy diagrams can be drawn to explain with graphical bluntness that the conversation Mr Lunchbox wishes to pursue should be drawn to a hasty close. After all, your pub time is precious and should not be wasted suffering fools.

Next time, my diagrammatic series examines the phenomenon of coming home late from the pub.