It’s just my luck. It’s one of the hazards of eating in public places…

Lately, I have landed up next to a table, when eating out that has a self opinionated dramatic monologue being delivered in a manner that intrudes on any attempt at tranquil conversation.

I can’t understand how some people can talk so loudly. Do they really want everyone to hear how boring they are?

A few weeks ago, a friend and I met for lunch at a country venue. As we sat on the verandah of the gracious establishment, catching up and just chilling, a voice droned up from the garden below.

It was the nasal monotone of an ‘I’ specialist trying to impress a potential girlfriend.

As our lunch progressed, we couldn’t get rid of the voice. We kind of wished he would get a tough piece of meat to chew on a bit to give his voice a rest. But it was not to be.

They did not order food. They only took in liquid refreshment which apparently just lubricated the vocal chords, watered the ego and fuelled the me-anthem!

On a balmy spring evening not long after, my husband and I decided to go for supper at a local restaurant, sit outside and enjoy the sunset  – and later the lights of the city twinkling in the Joburg urban haze.

You guessed it.

Next to us was a female minister of international affairs or maybe a minister without portfolio with plenty to prove?  She was holding court at her table, quaffing Chardonnay and as the evening progressed got louder and cleverer and more well travelled the further her glass emptied.

Passing opinions on former president Clinton, what to do when visiting Vegas – been there, done that! China , Africa, Angola bla bla … Import export bla bla … Holidays in the bush bla bla! …

“I drank so much on that holiday, I was called the ‘Chardonnay queen of the Bush!” BLA BLA …

Why don’t they order something to eat? So she can chew and swallow and give her voice a rest? The best was yet to come – some or other famous person she had met was just the best ‘oratator ‘ (sic) she had ever met. Almost sounds like irritator methinks?

Bring us the bill please, we’ll have coffee (and a Rennies) at home.