I’m sat in my local pub doing a bit of work and having a drink, and in the corner just along from me is a middle aged woman and (what I assume is) her elderly mother. My arrival at an adjacent table has caused a stir. The elderly woman, very animatedly, asks her daughter what that is in front of me.
“It’s a computer”, she explains.
There follows a protracted period of snorting and head shaking, followed by another question. This elicits a different response.
“It’s a beer”.
Further explanation is necessary. “It’s a long drink, a bit like wine. Made from hops”.
The elderly woman finds this answer fantastical. There is much to-ing and fro-ing, some further explanations (“No, it’s not really that much like wine”) and the younger woman is forced to spend some considerable time trying to convince her mother that actually, no, she probably doesn’t want to try a pint. This strikes me as somewhat unfair.
The barmaid comes over and collects their glasses.
“What’s that?”, the old lady asks, excited.
“That? That’s a cardigan”.
And so it goes on.