Bragging Shites

I don’t think there’s anything less becoming or more tasteless than people who brag. Now that holiday season is upon us, I have to put up with KKK crowing from the desk next to me, giving me an hour by hour countdown to her fortnight’s break. And she’s only going to Guernsey. Where she goes every year. If she was trekking through Peru or going bar-hopping in New York, my ears might prick up a bit but as it happens, I’m simply not interested in her and her dull husband’s two-week snoozefest.

I know this smacks of jealousy and I know it sounds this is even more likely to be the cause of my rant because we’re not going away this year but even if we were, I wouldn’t dream of spouting off about my holiday at every possible moment.  Last year, Mr P and I went to Croatia for a week; my colleagues didn’t even realise I was going abroad until the day before I finished work. 

Then once the bragging fades, the holiday is over and my colleagues are back at work, you have to hear every minute detail about their bloody jollies. In KKK’s case, this usually involves a harshly worded review posted on tripadviser about the “calibre of people allowed into 5* destinations these days”, or she must recount the “hilarious story” of the time he husband forgot to pack his raincoat.  Riveting.

Holidays are a treat, a luxury and if you can afford to go away, good for you. Just save us the pre and post bragging – your lack of grace and class stinks.

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