Oh, please don’t bother to come and dine with me ...

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I was watching ‘Come Dine With Me’ the other night and it made me wonder if I’d really like to go on it.

My friends and I love it and watch every episode we possibly can, even all the repeats that come on the digital channels, despite having seen them a dozen times before.

For those who don’t know the show, it’s basically four or five complete strangers who take turns to cook for each other at their homes and then score each other out of 10 to see who wins.

Having dinner with friends is something that becomes more and more frequent as you get a bit older, well it has for us anyway, and watching ‘Come Dine With Me’ (CDWM) gives us ideas on things to cook, what to buy for our tables and maybe some entertainment tips (naked butlers excluded of course).

We’ve always said we’d love to go on the show, but we haven’t really got the bottle to put our names forward and actually go for it and that might be for a couple of reasons.

While it’s brilliant to watch other people squirm at a diner’s rudeness, or just because they’re talking utter garbage, it’s something I’m not sure I’d like to put up with first-hand because I do it every day at work and it makes my blood boil sometimes.

The latest CDWM I saw was somewhere in the north of England, Yorkshire I think, and, as always, there was one person at the table who took things to the extreme.

The chap in question was a complete bore who thought he was the most entertaining person in the world and everyone should listen to him and what he had to say.

He trashed the other diners’ food, which was perfectly fine, and offended everyone with comments about their weight, appearance, dress sense, personality, you name it, he had a comment to make and you just wanted to shore up his mouth with the food.

Then, when it was his turn to cook, he dressed up as a scantily clad Roman gladiator and greeted each of his guests with an outstretched arm declaring, “I am Spartacus”.

“No you’re not, you’re a pillock”, said brilliant narrator Dave Lamb, who always hits the nail on the head with his witty putdowns when someone is being a complete fool.

Anyway, it got me thinking that I should be more like Mr Lamb – rather than a lamb – at work when Old Sticky offers his rude and obnoxious comments to conversations at work.

We call one of our colleagues Old Sticky because he’s an old stick in the mud – stuck in the 1970s.

Anything that comes out of his mouth is usually chauvinistic, or whatever you’ve done he’s done it twice. You know the type.

One thing I can say is that Old Sticky won’t be dining with me any time in this lifetime.