So last week we went to the Puzzle in Gray's Inn Road, which was a much harder and more involved affair. We came second. It seemed impossible we'd ever win against the shit-hot and, frankly, better populated team that called themselves "Slag Heap".
Well, last night we did. By one point. The team in third place was about 15 points further behind. (Thank God Stef and I had stayed up a couple of weeks back somewhat uncharacteristically watching Crufts when there was bugger all else on the telly, or we wouldn't have known that a dog named Fabulous Willy had been Best In Show.)
The way they work it in this quiz is that the winning team sends someone up to choose an envelope from six: one includes the jackpot (which rolls over to the following week if no one wins it), and then there are prizes of rounds of drinks to the value of £15 or £25, one or two bottles of wine and a mixture of wine and drinks credit.
The lads sent me up, of course. Nick pointed out that Luck be a Lady.
I didn't see the quizmaster mix up the envelopes, so I wondered if it were possible that he knew what was in which envelope. In which case, if I were in his position, would I not put the winning envelope in a position that people would be unlikely, psychologically speaking, to go for, in order to get it to roll over and pull in more punters next week? A position like one of the ends, perhaps. And in fact, with the envelopes fanned towards me, undersides upwards, if he had had the jackpot envelope on the top of his pile originally, then logically it should be on the bottom now. So I went for the one on the bottom.
It was, of course, the jackpot: £220.
Of course, it was probably blind luck, but the fact that he announced I'd won the jackpot before I'd unfolded the paper makes me wonder - did he see the print through the paper? Or was there actually method to my madness?
Hey - who gives a shit? I've got £74 in my purse that shouldn't be there. Drinks are on me.