Met one of those recently. 

You know Know-Alls!

He was trying to be all things to all men, calling everybody “Buddy” or “Madam”. But the names didn’t mean a thing. He had usurped and was sitting on King Joe's throne. 

He was definitely not my buddy, and if he called me madam, he would be looking for his dentures. Back to the story Laz, back on track here Buddy.

For a short time, he was trying to be the soul of the party. Agreeing with comments made, or butting in with his take on things.

Beside me one of the local, No Worldwide Celebrities was trying to have a quiet drink. His business singing with his band, as it turns out in the Pandemic, literally for his supper, was at a standstill.

We were all, about nine of us called him by his name, as we shared the outdoors pub banter. We discussed, strangely for Ireland the heat and factor 30 or 50 protection cream – Sun Block some call it. All outdoor all socially distanced, with servers masked and careful on approach to anyone. No invading our personal spaces, at all.

The know-all's wife was in the company and she complimented the Celeb, on how well he was looking and how he had aged very well over the last 25 years or so.

This conversation was interrupted by Know-All who got up and stuck his face into Celeb’s face and asked. “What’s your name?” The reply was the same name as we had been using all the afternoon. When it was provided, he asked. “Is that short for something?”

Then the plonker took Celeb's hand and muttered. “Pleased to meet you.”

Then he put on his mask, shook his shoulders and tacked out of the patio area.

He had been sailing close to the wind - all afternoon.