Glasgow Bed Sales Symposium
Scotland’s leading bed experts assembled on mass, Saturday 27 March, to discuss the latest techniques that can be applied in the world of selling beds. A full and lively discussion was had and I thought I ought to summarise the main conclusions drawn from an evening of deep thought and concentration.
If you want a full and happy life avoid The Toby Jug, Glasgow Central. If you do make the egregious error of crossing the threshold, down 6 pints of lager fast to anaesthetise the experience (it worked for me). Yes this was the venue of our soiree. Well chosen Alison.
Study hard the sayings of Rab C Nesbitt. The majority of Glaswegians have made it their lifetime pursuit, and sacrifice themselves every Saturday night to delirium and noxiousness in his honour. Football attire for the gents and a 2ft strip of second hand net curtain for the ladies. Radioactive tan for the ladies and artfully crafted tattoos (from the Neanderthal school of art) de rigueur for all.
But did I have a good time? Yes! Stuart Dickson discovered that the girl he deeply adored, 17 years earlier, now works out of our Cumbernauld bed store. If only he hadn’t poured a pint of Guinness into her brand new designer boots (and then drank it). If only he was a bit taller, less hairy and rich and famous things might have worked out for Stuart and Michelle.
Alison explained to me that her favourite colour is black but in order to lighten her mood she was wearing all grey tonight. I advised her that I found brown to be very sexy. So watch out for Alison’s new brown trouser suit.
Joanna explained how it was fate that she got a job at Archers Sleepcentre and met her lover and husband (forgot who she said her lover was – wasn’t me who did the recruiting btw). George couldn’t attend and defend himself, though I did think he has a knack for finding the most passionate and super fertile bed sales consultants this side of the Barras.
Billy demonstrated once again his manliness and courage. He turned up. And flush with his successful entrance he toured the bar upbraiding and moving on any person not to his liking. There was a stabbing later. Alison was looking out her black but no, it wasn’t Billy.
And so the night finally came to an end. Who says life rushes past fast when you get older? My suggestion for our next night out is a sleepover at our Edinburgh bed store, Seafield. Now we have 50 staff and only 60 beds on display we better do it fast. I bags the Sealy Cumbrian Meadow.
Related posts:
This entry was posted on Sunday, April 4th, 2010 at 9:48 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
