@TheAwkwardYeti couldn't sleep, so he asked his readers if we could tell him something boring. So, here's my answer...
@theawkwardyeti Well, the story of boring goes back to 1778, when Sir Charles Boring decided to entertain his guests at a family dinner by telling him personal accounts from the Seven Years' War. The Seven Years' War was a global conflict fought between 1756 and 1763.
@theawkwardyeti It involved every European great power of the time and spanned five continents, affecting Europe, the Americas, West Africa, India, and the Philippines. The conflict split Europe into two coalitions, led by the Kingdom of Great Britain (including Prussia, Portugal, Hanover, ....
@theawkwardyeti ...and other small German states) on one side and the Kingdom of France (including the Austrian-led Holy Roman Empire, the Russian Empire, Bourbon Spain, and Sweden) on the other. Sir Charles didn't attend the war personally; he remained informed by reading the letters...
@theawkwardyeti ...That a distant cousin, Samuel Boring, used to send him. They weren't particularly close, nor there was some kind of animosity between them. They had become acquainted by sharing the same surname and a series of lordships in common which kept them somewhat entertained.
@theawkwardyeti Samuel had become, in time, a relatively minor player in the market of they gray potato - a variety of english potato known by its dull, grayish colour and its insipid taste, which blandly mirrored Lord Boring's character. Charles, on the contrary...
@theawkwardyeti ...was barely known in the social circles, refusing to marry or have children and making most of his earnings in the complex area of soot investments. By the age of forty, Lord Boring had amassed almost thirty tones of soot and a few pounds of ashes...
@theawkwardyeti ...which had allowed him to retire early to his winter cottage where he spent most of the evenings watching a dull black and white portrait of his mother, Lady Gertrude Boring, of some german ascent which she expressed while alive by refusing sexual intercourse with her husband..
@theawkwardyeti ...and assisting to catholic mass every third day and sundays where she confessed her sins, of which there weren't many that were worth recalling. Her cold disposition mirrored the house itself, which was chilling and unwelcoming.
@theawkwardyeti However, in some rare occasions, Sir Charles invited guests at his summer house, mainly to discuss the matters regarding the prices of soot and sometimes, potatoes. The dinners were marked by their lack of music, adequate lighting and proper heating...
@theawkwardyeti ...and the food itself was notorious by its lack of variety. For drinks, usually there was plain water served in lead cups, and in the days when Lord Boring felt exuberant, you might be offered a choice between cold and lukewarm.
@theawkwardyeti The main course, most of the time, was cooked potatoes, peeled, unsalted, served on a white plate, with a side dish of generic meat of unknown procedence, usually of the cuadruped inclination. The maid who prepared the dishes was a slavic mute, who couldn't be reasoned with...
@theawkwardyeti ...so her story was lost in the annals of time. Not that it was interesting, not at all. She appeared one day with a letter of recommendation from Count Langweilig, a very distant relative of bavarian ascent, asking Lord Boring to give the old woman a job.
@theawkwardyeti Not that there was much to do: Lord Boring's routine basically was getting early at 6 in the morning, when it was too dark to read or do anything; washing his privates with a damp cloth, getting dressed with his weekly two-part suit and finally, go down the stairs...
@theawkwardyeti ..to have breakfast, which was probably the most exciting meal of the day since it included a hard-boiled egg and a very washed-out cup of tea. After that, Lord Boring took his carriage and went to the city to supervise the soot shipments until five o'clock in the evening...
@theawkwardyeti ...when he returned home and have his dinner, which was usually a piece of barley bread with another cup of gray tea. On the days Lord Boring was feeling adventurous, a tiny slice of cheese was added to the bread, but that was a rare sight.
@theawkwardyeti This, in time, meant that Elena (for that was the name of the maid) spent most of the day in darkness since she had a pathological fear of candles. The cause for this fear, we can only hypothesise, since she wasn't able to speak with her voice as most people do.
@theawkwardyeti Her illiteracy didn't help either, so most of the communication between her and Lord Boring happened by means of confusing gestures that were most of the time mistranslated between english and slavic and back. Sadly, this led to no comical situations, only frustration...
@theawkwardyeti ...and a mildly repressed discontent between both of them which were forced to share the same space, but unable to communicate to each other their wants and needs - not that there were many of them. Elena seemed to be quite content with spending her days appreciating...
@theawkwardyeti ...a patch of grey grass that slowly grew under her window. That grass was later noted as useless and removed by Barton, the gardener, who also happened to be an eunuch due to an early and infortunate trimming accident.
@theawkwardyeti Perhaps the most interesting moment in the life of Sir Charles Boring came the day he was offered a massive opportunity of investing in yarn spinning. After careful consideration and sensible reasoning, Sir Charles decided against it, so nothing came out of it in the end.
@theawkwardyeti Anyway, the day Charles decided to read his guests the letters that Samuel had sent him every day since the Seven Years' War began, he had to spend a good couple of hours arranging them by date, so he could make sense of the stories that his cousin sent him.
@theawkwardyeti It was late, and it was cold, and the guests were becoming sleepy. This day, however, Sir Charles was feeling quite generous, so he had started a small fire in the immense chimney in the middle of the main hall, and it crackled weakly with a warm, pale light.
@theawkwardyeti The guests were all simply acquaintances, related by the ways of the trade or other economic bonds to each other. There was Augustus Gray, a chimney sweep salesman, fat and sweaty. On his right there was Madame Baker, pale and cold.
@theawkwardyeti Next to them, there were Vincent and Theresa Bricque, siblings, born only three months apart from each other and owners of half the mortar walls in London. And finally, there was an American, Newton Marlowe, of friendly although somber disposition.
@theawkwardyeti Most of them if not all weren't there for the entertainment but to discuss business, but they had accepted to be entertained by Sir Charles if only to try to get his good side, apparently of which was none.
@theawkwardyeti So, Sir Charles announced to them, in a mildly enthusiastic tone, that he was about to read to them the first letter that his cousin Samuel sent him from the war front. This was greeted with a moderate acquiescence from everyone in the hall.
@theawkwardyeti Sir Charles opened the envelope and carefully removed the letter from the inside, accommodated his heavy, golden framed glasses and began reading:
"Dear Cousin: You might ask yourself why am I writing this letter to you. And the truth is, that war is mostly doing nothing...
@theawkwardyeti ...for days at a time. War is essentially boring, like you and me, which reminds me of a boring story: the story of Boring. Well, the story of Boring goes back to 1778, when Sir Charles Boring decided to entertain his guests at a dinner by telling him personal accounts of..."
