New Year's Resolutions

Do you know what?

I've never been that good at New Year's Resolutions.

Of course, that's actually not true.  I've been pretty good at making them (although less so over the passed few years) but pretty terrible at keeping them.

I guess that's why I've avoided them recently... I know I'm going to end in abject failure, descending into a litany of self pity and then loathing.  I mean, why should I put myself in that position?

But I read a blog about how to make the most of New Year's Resolutions the other day and it pointed out the reason so many of them fail... and it's actually quite simple.  Most resolutions require us to stop something: drinking (so much), eating, watching telly, swearing and so on.

The problem is, as human beings, we find the requirement to stop doing things very difficult.  Fortunately, the flip side of the coin is that we are very good at doing more.  The technical reason is that the behaviours already exist and it's easier to more of something you already do than to change that behaviour by stopping entirely.

So, this year I have been inspired to set myself some New Year's Resolutions based on the idea of doing more.  Hopefully I'll remember this blog one year from now and I'll be able to measure my success.

Here goes; here are my 10 resolutions:

1. To go back to the USA - I haven't been for 2 years.  I think New York and Vegas are in order
2. To go on 2 mini city breaks (never done one).  I'm thinking Prague would be good and maybe a German Christmas market
3. To visit friends more (actually to visit friends, full stop.  We've been pretty bad at it this year).  To become good and proper friends once more
4. To spend more time at home in the evenings, which means leaving work a bit earlier
5. To laugh more - maybe even visit a comedy club
6. To visit the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow and watch a sporting event
7. To try something new and scary.  Not sure what that is as I've done most scary physical things
8. To take a course of study.  Maybe creative writing or history... well, I'm of that age now!
9. To finish my next book... somehow
10. To ride a tram in Edinburgh.  Okay, okay, I know that one is pretty unlikely but we can all hope and pray!

I fully recognise these may not be Earth shattering but I thought that from small acorns and all that.

So, we'll see how they go and report back in a year's time.

Before then, it just remains for me to say on behalf of Renee, Barney and me... thank you for a stonking, fabulous, tiring, exhilarating, rollercoaster of a year.

We can't wait for 2014 so we'll see you ont he other side when we'll do it all again.

Thanks a million.

Shop Opening

Our new shop opens next week - on the 12th December to be precise.

It's been a fair old while coming but now we're on the brink of the next chapter in the business we decided to sit down and really evaluate where we are against our plans, goals, aims and targets.

We hadn't been through the process for a while and so we were braced for some surprises... but the chief surprise was that we are pretty much on track, or maybe even just a little bit ahead.

It was always our intention to build a business that looked at accountancy in a slightly different way because, let's face facts: it's quite difficult to differentiate one accountant from another by the quality of their accounts - or at least it should be.  After all, all accounts should be the same give or take interpretation and mistakes.

So the next thing a lot of accountants do is try to differentiate themselves on price... but this is the rocky road to ruin for everyone involved.

No, we decided that actually the accounts themselves should be a given and price, if not the cheapest, has to be in the right ball park.  Our differentiator is the experience we hope our customers have as a client of TaxAssist Accountants.

What do we mean by this?

Of course, we work very hard to make sure the accounts are spot on and in 99.9% of cases they are.  I hesitate to say 100% because that's impossible.  However, beyond the accounts being right, we make sure our customers understand what their accounts are telling them... we talk everyone through their accounts and highlight things that have changed from previous years and we talk about why this might be.

And then there's the experience between these annual events.  We are always looking for connections between our customers, recommending networking groups and marketing and putting people in touch with as much help and advice as we can (and they want).

Finally, we offer a pretty rounded service.  Of course we do accounts, bookkeeping, payroll and all that stuff.  We can also help with business plans, copy writing, investment and all the other things that a business person might need.

So, after three and half years in the office at 84 St John's Road, we're moving... 250 metres up the road to 113 St John's Road.  We thought about it long and hard and decided it was exactly the right thing to do.

Our launch event is Thursday 12th December and we'll be working in the new office from Monday 16th December.

Do come in to see us... the new office is a whole new ball game in that we have loads of space, desks to rent and meeting rooms to hire.  We'd love to see you and are looking forward to the next business chapter in Corstorphine.

Longest Trip for the Shortest Course

A couple of years ago we did some work for a US based software security company...

We won't say which one but it's former owner is now on the run somewhere in South America.

It was a great job over several months that involved a series of training courses delivered in Dallas, Texas.  The first couple of courses were two day affairs, so R & R arrived a day early and went straight home after the first course but managed to tack on a few days holiday after the second.

Interestingly Richard had a stereotypical view of Texans when he first arrived... a view that seemed to be confirmed during their first meal in Dallas.

It was August and therefore it was scorching hot; 40+ degrees.  There was a sports bar directly opposite the hotel and the fact that all the waitresses were wearing nothing but bikinis had no influence on Richard's choice of eatery.

Anyway, it being hot Renee and Richard decided to eat outside (the only people doing so, 'cos everyone else was in the cool air conditioned bar.)

As Texans walked passed they threw a few strange looks at the pair of them.  Eventually one person shouted over the parking lot: 'You know y'awll gonna get sunburned sitting there!'

To which R & R replied: 'We know, we're from Scotland and will be pale again next week!'

As he got to know a few genuine Texans, Richard changed his opinion.  Sure they may proffer their opinions in the loudest possible way, but they always come from the right place.  The only reason the lady shouted from the other side of the parking lot was because she was genuinely concerned.

And so the project continued until Richard got a 'phone call on 28th November; could he be in Dallas on 1st December to deliver a half day course?

What?

So it was on British Airways from edinburgh to Heathrow on the morning of the 30th November and then American Airlines to (the twin cities of) Minneapolis and St Paul's before another flight to Dallas, arriving at about 6.00pm, because of the time difference, in Texas.

Then it was up at 7.00am to get to the office to deliver the half day follow up session between 9.00am and 1.00pm.

The taxi was ordered for 1.30pm on the 1st December and the flight on American went to Memphis then Memphis to Heathrow, arriving in the early hours of 2nd December before jumping on the final flight up from Heathrow (which was on the verge of being closed because of snow) and getting back into the office at 3.00pm on the 2nd December.

Phew!

Richard was a little surprised when his Dad asked what Dallas was like.  'Errr... much like Edinburgh, really.  Or at least the office block I was working in was.'

Strangely, though, Richard doesn't say he felt tired doing it... there wasn't time for jet lag to set in and he managed to get a decent night's sleep ont he 'plane onthe way home!

He would want to do it for a commute, though.

White Coffee

You know what it's like when new people start work at your place... it's an unwritten rule that have to take the mick out of them and you get them doing silly things like ringing the zoo and asking for the seal of approval... that sort of thing.

Except with this guy, we didn't have to.

He started with our training company doing administration and the first thing he had to administrate was coffee!

So he asked people around the office.  Renee asked for black coffee and Stewart asked for 'white with one.'

A few minutes later Richard walked into the kitchen to see the new fella with a jar Nescafe in his hands but searching in the cupboard for something else.

'What are you looking for?'  Asked Richard.

'Do you have any other coffee?'  Said the new guy by way of response.

Richard was perplexed: 'Why do you need more coffee?'

Well, I've found this coffee,' says the young man waving the jar in Richard's general direction, 'But I can't seem to find the white coffee.'

Immediately Richard made a pact with himself not to tell anyone... which lasted all of 7.72453 seconds.

Big Log

We've set up a variety of learning experiences in the past... everything from recreating a business journey in a physical journey to completing community based projects.

One of these community based projects was based out at the beautiful Falls of Clyde, New Lanark where there's a big Natural Scotland Conservation project.

We met with the Ranger who ran the centre and he had been trying to build a Badger Watch platform for many years.  We agreed that we'd pay for the materials and provide the people (we had a group of 15 available for 8 hours) if he'd give technical guidance and make sure the materials we needed were available.

The group included people from all over Europe and the Middle East.  They flew in to Glasgow the day before the event, were briefed in the evening and had come up with the plan to build the Badger Watch in the following 12 hours... you get the picture.

The Ranger from the Conservation Trust was as good as his word and there was exactly the right amount of raw materials to build the platform.

The platform turned out to be quite a construction - a walkway, 6 feet wide, built in the shape of a 'T'.  8 feet high at the furthest end to give an unobstructed view of the badger sett.  With a hundred or so planks of wood, 20 supporting poles, chicken wire for grip and lots more it was quite an effort to get everything shipped up to the site.

Anyway, the team built the Badger Watch platform... it was a terrific effort, really hard work.  But it was one of those days when everything came together.  Team spirit was excellent, everyone had a role and there was a growing sense of achievement as the platform arose out of the hillside...

Right up until the very last moment.

The 'topping out' ceremony was actually the fixing of the last plank to the almost complete structure.

But OMG, we were one board short.  All eyes turned to the park Ranger who was scratching his head.

'I know we had the right number of planks... I ordered them myself.'

It was then we heard an industrious sawing sound.

Almost as one, all heads swivelled towards a Dutch guy who was busy cutting through a plank... the LAST plank.

'What are you doing?'  Shouted one of the ladies on the course.

'Errr...' said the Dutch fella nervously.  'Errr... I'm making a bench out of this spare plank I found.'  He swallowed a lump that had just appeared in his throat.

Bedlam broke out.  'You idiot!  That was the last plank we needed to complete the project... we were about to have our photos taken and everything.'

More shouting and now the group was beginning to advance menacingly towards the guy who was backing up towards the edge of the platform.

Seeing what was about to happen the Ranger stepped forwards.  'Don't worry, I can get another plank tomorrow and come back...'

Slowly the group calmed down and their Dutch colleague realised he wasn't going to get lynched after all...

But it was close.

Toilet Rolls

Richard, in the dim and distant past, used to work for Midland Bank before it became nasty scary HSBC.

He joined at the tender and somewhat naive age of 18 at his home town branch of Lowestoft, which was nice, because most of the ladies he worked with were about 22 years of age and generally single.

Richard was able to impress his mates on a Friday night at the local club (which was called Chequers) by being able to talk to so many good looking girls... he never got anywhere with the girls, though!

After a couple of months in the branch Richard was given the highly responsible job of looking after the branch stationery orders; he had to order pens and forms and air freshener.  In fact, everything the branch needed to function properly... and that included the toilet rolls.

The stationery order was submitted once a month to head office and deliveries were made a week or so after the order was made.  Of course Richard's order had to be checked by the manager but he never did; he just signed the piece of paper Richard put in front of him.

This particular month Richard noticed that he's just opened the last box of toilet rolls so he ordered 72 loo rolls using the usual order form, thinking that those supplies would last a couple of months, depending on how nervous people got in the branch.

A week or so later he got a call from Stationery Department asking if he could be in the branch at 7.00am on the day of the stationery delivery as the articulated lorry had to pull up outside.

'Sure,' says Richard, not thinking too much more about it.

The next day he got to the branch at 7.00am and there was a very large lorry parked outside.  'Must be going on somewhere else,' he thought to himself.

'Here you go mate,' says the driver handing him the two usual medium size boxes.

'Thanks,' replied Richard and turned to go into the branch.

'Hang on, mate,' the driver shouted.  'You need to give me a hand with this lot...'

Oh My God.  The rest of the trailer was packed with toilet rolls.

'B...b...but I didn't order that,' stammered Richard.

'Yes you did,' replied the lorry driver cheerfully.  'Come on, give us an 'and.'

So the pair of them unloaded 72 boxes of 72 toilet rolls into the main banking hall at Lowestoft branch - which was now full of cardboard.

The driver started to climb back into his lorry.

'Oy,' shouted Richard, 'Aren't you going to help me carry this lot upstairs?'

'Can't,' shouted the lorry driver as he started his engine with a roar.  'I've got to get back to the depot... we didn't have room for anything else on the wagon!'

Richard looked at his watch: 7.38am.  40 minutes to get 72 boxes up 3 flights of stairs to the stationery room which was right at the top of the building.

He then put in what he still regards as his best ever 40 minutes of hard graft.  But at the end of it every box of toilet rolls was packed safely away at the top of the building... and no-one ever mentioned how packed with boxes the stationery room was!

As an aside there's a strange end to the story.  Richard was promoted to a new branch a couple of months later and didn't return for another 5 years, this time as a manager.

One day he needed to get a new loo roll for the toilet.  He went into the stationery cupboard and was astonished to find that he was opening the last box of the mammoth order he had made all those years before.

he must have saved the branch a fortune!

The things we put in our mouths

As you'd expect food, eating and the whole restaurant experience plays quite a big part of your life when you run a training business and you are schlepping all over the world.

And things range from the sublime to the ridiculous.

For example, working in Dallas involved quite a lot of French fries (don't call them chips because you'll get a bag of crisps) and burgers.

Although there was once incident when Renee and Richard went to a Sports Bar.  All the waitresses were in excess of 6 feet tall and all wore bikinis... but that didn't influence Richard's choice of eatery. No it was the fact that there were seats outside.

Bearing in mind the temperature was in excess of 40 degrees it turned out that only R and R had opted for the al fresco option... and gawd bless 'em, the Texans felt duty bound to offer advice to the pale ones:

'Youawll get a sun tan sitting out here!'

To which the reply was: 'We know... but we're from Scotland and we'll be pale again next week!'

Notwithstanding that, the food in the States was pretty bland... the exact opposite from Malaysia, which was a little too... errr... authentic.

R and R were working for a Malaysian business that was a division of the government... and their hospitality was fabulous.  In fact, hospitality actually meant eating about 7 times a day.

The bosses of this company decided that it would be pretty good to take R and R up the Petronas Towers.  Please do remember that R and R are British and so went to join the end of the queue that was waiting for the lifts.

However, their government hosts were having none of it: the whole party was marched straight to the front of the queue with R and R apologising to everyone who made angry eye contact with them before ordering tower staff to close the Sky Bridge for half an hour.

After this wonderful trip R and R were whisked away to an authentic Malaysian restaurant.  The thing is neither of our intrepid explores are really exotic eaters but they really wanted to be polite to their hosts (and win more work at the same time)...

But we are ashamed to say Richard had to baulk at Soft Shell Crabs.  A Soft Shell Crab just looks like a crab about the size of a jam jar lid.  It's cooked and then you eat it... still looking like a crab.

All was going well until Richard lifted the crab to his mouth, pincers and eye stalks towards him and they all jiggled as though the crab was still alive and wriggling.

'What's the matter?'  Asked one of the hosts.  'You eat cows at home... why not a crab?'

'Ah,' says Richard in response, 'When I eat a cow it doesn't look like one anymore!'

Later that same evening when R and R were about to settle down for the night their room 'phone rang.  'Please come down to the foyer, our Director has a treat for you.'

They were packed into government limos and driven out to the countryside where they pulled up at a roadside fruit stall.

The Government Director handed R and R a piece of fruit with spikes on its shell.  Inside the pulp was the texture of PVA wood glue and smelt like puke.  This fruit is banned from air conditioned spaces because it makes people feel ill.  It's still a delicacy though.

The fruit was sucked off a stone roughly the size of a duck egg.  When it was eaten it immediately raised body temperature by a couple of degrees.  So Richard was handed another fruit which was much nicer to lower his temperature again.

Renee didn't quite manage to eat the fruit handed to her.

Bizarre Training Rooms

We've trained in some strange and wonderful places in our time... and when the location is bizarre the chances are it's not particularly conducive to good learning.

Take, for example, the departure lounge at Larne Ferry Port in Nor'ern Ireland.

That was a strange day in the life of a couple of trainers.  Each year just before the start of the summer season, which is March time, this particular ferry company hired a whole load of staff to work in the shops and restaurants on their ferries.

This year they wanted to increase the amount of cash generated by taking the novel approach of being nice to people.  We were shipped in (literally as it happened) to deliver some customer service training before the ferry port officially opened for the year.

So, we drove down to Stranraer the night before, stayed in a really awful guest house before jumping on the 6.30am sailing across the Irish Sea, fetching up in Larne at 8.30am ready to start training at 10.00am - Get the picture?

We arrived at what was laughingly called a departures lounge only to find it devoid of anything resembling furniture apart from a load of orange plastic chairs bolted together in lines.

I have to say, that if not one of our proudest moments, we were pretty relieved when we managed to rustle up five long trestle tables, a projector screen, extension cable and 50 chairs all within half an hour.

But the piece de resistance was our projector stand... we found that an upturned waste bin from the terminal was absolutely the perfect height for projection.

And then there was the time when Richard was training staff from the Department of Work and Pensions.  The office he was training in was home to the Job Centre, too.

Just as he was getting going he saw a bloke with an iron bar force his way into the Job Centre before trying to smash through a security screen.  Needless to say it would have been a pretty useless screen if it had smashed so all that happened was that the guy jarred his arm very badly... no doubt he tried to sue the government for RSI or something.

And last but certainly not least, R and R delivered a seminar in the Far East, where attitudes to these sorts of things are... different to here at home.

For example, here at home we sit politely in the seminar, mostly pretending to be interested in the presentation even if we're not.  We wait until break to go to the loo and get a cup of coffee.  And if, OMG how embarrassing, you need to go to the loo half way through a session you sneak out doubled over as though no-one will be able to see you walking in a crouched position!

Over there it was different.  The delegates got up and walked out... mostly right in front of Richard as he was presenting... either to go to the loo or get coffee or for a puff of fresh air or to make a call (although they didn't wait to get outside before answering the call)...

But the funniest moment was when, just as Richard was getting into his flow a workman from the conference centre walked in with a step ladder under his arm.

He set it up right in front of Richard, climbed the ladder and proceeded to open the air con unit that was above his head.

And it wasn't even for essential repairs to keep the heat down.  It was just a routine service... right in front of 150 delegates half way through a seminar session!

Cross Dressing... and More

We once did a piece of work for a major supermarket.

The boss made an excellent point about all of life being there: 'Because we have so many people come through our doors every week there's usually at least one death and a birth in our stores.'

And the principle holds true for this next stary from our business past.

If you've been training long enough you get to see pretty much everything; from sleepers to... well, yes, cross dressers and transexuals.

Richard started his career at Midland Bank, quite a long time ago.  It was in the days when the country was finally beginning to lighten up and slowly it became okay to talk about the the subject of transgender, homosexuality and so on.  It couldn't have been easy back in eighties, but change was afoot.

Richard worked in a branch of Midland that also housed the area office, which meant the Area Manager was on site.  During his time there a member of staff made an announcement.  He was in the process of changing from he to she and he was going to be living as a woman for at least a year ahead of making the physical change.

This caused an issue in the office... oh, we don't mean anyone had a philosophical objection (or, if they did, they kept it well hidden).  No, the difficulty was rather more practical: toilets.

Clearly, using the men's was out of the question and the women in the office felt the same.  There was nothing for it...

The Area Manager had to give up the keys to his personal executive washroom.

Best pleased he was not.

This reminded us of a story from Renee's training past.

Jump forward a few years: Renee was working for a Police Service... we won't tell you which one for obvious reasons.

The piece of work was interesting but became more interesting when she was told about a Police Officer who was now a woman but used to be a man.  Apparently it was easy to tell who it was (apart from the enormous hands and Adam's Apple) because she was the only WPC who wore a skirt.

Having said that, there weren't many duties the officer couldn't perform as a result of making the life change: in fact, it was policing football matches that caused issues.

One of the guys on Renee's course told her about a 'phone call he had to make to the WPC's home.

He dialled the number and a young lad answered the 'phone - probably about 15 years old, the guy reckoned.

He was slightly taken aback by this, so stammered out: 'Oh, er, can I speak with Rachel (name changed) please?'

'Sure you can,' said the lad chirpily.  He took the 'phone away from his mouth and yelled at the top of his voice: 'DAD, 'phone!'

Shaun the Sheep On Tour

Many years ago Richard worked for a company in the Virgin Group called the Virgin One Account.

At the time it was owned (roughly) 50:50 by Virgin and RBS... but the feel of the place was more Virgin than traditional bank.

For example, there were some great parties.  Given the Virgin One Account was based in Norwich probably 25 miles from the sea at its nearest point, you wouldn't have thought a beach party in March was a great option.

And because of that very fact we decided to put one on... a beach party, that is.  So we shipped in 40 tons of sand and some whacking great industrial heaters and had limbo competitions, a barbeque, Malibu (lots of Malibu) and a steel band.

It was at that party our Richard first met Richard Branson.  At the urinals as it happened.  He always says it was a surreal little moment in his life.  There he was, standing at the urinal minding his own business when he became aware of a person standing next to him.

Being a bloke he didn't really want to look over, 'cos it's just not the done thing, but he happened to glance to his left and, stone the crows, if it wasn't RB himself.  It was all Richard could do not to swing round to introduce himself.

Anyway, he refrained and just did the bloke thing: 'Alright? ' And a manly nod.

Be that as it may, they were certainly interesting times in those early days at Virgin.  There was a real sense of taking on the corporate world and there was a bit of money to spend on management development, too.

So it came that Richard and the training team designed a management development course for team managers to help them understand business a bit more and to help them develop resourcefulness.  The way they did is was to recreate a business journey in an actual physical journey.

The 50 or so managers were told to turn up at a certain location in Norwich with their passports where they would be given further instructions and some money.

They were split into smaller groups and told to meet again in Paris and then again in Vienna.  On the way they had to interview members of the public about banks and what they liked and didn't like.  They also had to interview bankers about why things were done in a certain way.

Richard was observing one group on the way to Paris.  One of the guys in the group didn't want to be there and started complaining about everything from the food to the work to the fact he didn't have the right gear (despite the fact that everyone else managed to pack the right stuff).

Richard does have to admit, though, his bag wasn't really suitable for the venture.

It was a furry Shaun the Sheep rucksack:

In Paris, the team managed to secure an interview with a relatively senior manager at BNP.  So up we fetched, a little travel worn but looking okay...

And then there was Shaun the Sheep.  The guy whose bag it was had taken it from his back and was clutching Shaun to his chest - face outwards.  As he talked the sheep's head jiggled up and down a little... in fact, it looked for all the world as though Shaun the Sheep was interviewing the bank chief, not the fella from Virgin!

Delegates

Of course most of our funny stories come from the delegates we've had on courses over the years... and, to be honest, sometimes they mean to be funny and sometimes they don't.

Take, for example, a lady from a course delivered more than 10 years ago.  We called her Yah because as she was taking part in role plays (which we call Skills Practices nowadays - less scary, you see) she continually - and I mean continually - slapped her left thigh and said 'yah' at the end of every sentence.

It must have been agony.

Anyway, jumping forward a few years we delivered a course for a franchisor.  It was a fairly large group of 10 people or so, with a couple of husband and wife teams.

There was a lovely couple on the course.  The fella had been a senior manager in a business but had decided to set up his own business with his wife.  His wife was lovely, too, but in all honesty she was tuned to the moon.

Let me give you an example.  One day another delegates told a joke during a break.  It wasn't a blue joke and it wasn't particularly derogatory about anyone* but it seemed that Rosemary took exception to it and gave the guy who told the joke both barrels: 'that's just inappropriate and I don't want o be subject to your miscreant humour... please keep your disgusting jokes to yourself in future.'

I happened to share a glance with her husband at this moment and he was staring at me with eyes wide as if to say 'oh my God, did she just say that?'

I suspect he was learning quite a lot about his wife that hitherto he just didn't know.

Anyway, it came to the set piece closing session of the course.  This was a presentation delivered by the CEO who was a very good public speaker, even if he was a somewhat prickly character.  The presentation was very professional with supporting slides and everything.

The CEO was about 3 slides in and in full oratory flow when suddenly Rosemary quite literally shouts:

'Stop!  STOP!  Go back a slide... I have to see the previous slide!'

Having put the slides together myself I was mystified.  There was nothing on the slide that could have caused the outburst; just a few words and a picture of a worker smiling whilst going about her job.

The CEO was miffed.  'What is it Rosemary?'  He demanded querulously.

'That lady is wearing a lovely gilet and necklace!'

*Just for balance I thought I'd better tell the joke that caused such consternation in Rosemary:

Two American couples and a couple from Northern Ireland (the guy telling the joke was from Ballymena) were at breakfast in Las Vegas.

The first American guy looks lovingly at his wife and says: 'Sugar, will you pass the sugar?  Thank you sugar.'

The Irish bloke was a bit taken aback.  That was very nice he thought, guiltily.

The next American guy looks lovingly at his wife, too, and says: 'Honey, love of my life, will pass the honey please?'

Now the Irish guy was really feeling the pressure to say something loving to his wife.  All eyes turned expectantly to him, including his wife's...

Oh my God, I have to say something, he thinks desperately before blurting out: 'Would ye pass the bacon ye fat pig?'

The Sleeper

Here's a story from Richard's training past:

Everyone who's been in training for any length of time has had a sleeper on one of their courses... and probably more than one; although to have more than one on the same course is probably an issue.

I was doing some work for a regiment of the army... I won't say which one for reasons that will become obvious soon.

Anyway, I'd done my bit in the morning, which was lucky because lunch served in the Officer's Mess was jolly good, just a bit more than was strictly needed before an afternoon session in the lecture theatre.

After lunch I filed in to the auditorium with the two officers assigned to look after me.  Rupert and Tarquin I think their name's where.

Up on stage there was a distinguished old Cavalry Officer who must have been 80 years old if he was a day, in full military fig.  When the lights dimmed he started talking about the merits of decisive decision making (can there be any other sort?  I asked myself).

Apparently this wasn't to Tarquin's liking because folded his arms, turned to Rupert and said: 'My God this is boring... I'm going to sleep.'

Which he did.

Unfortunately the old boy on stage spotted him and decided to do something about it.

'I say, my good man,' says he to Rupert, 'The fellow next to you has gone to sleep... will you wake him up for me?'

Quick as a flash Rupert replied, 'You put him to sleep, you wake him up!'

Oh, how priceless!

Years later Renee and I were running a course together in Cobham, Surrey.  It was a large group all learning how to sell.

One fella was a biggish chap who was on the course with his son.  Personally, I think that retirement wasn't really suiting him (or his wife) and he was there for something to do, rather than any real desire to learn to sell.

Whatever... he'd had a large lunch and when we congregated for the afternoon session he promptly fell asleep.

I was sitting next to him and Renee was delivering the session... I think you can probably see where this is going!

'Richard,' says Renee, 'The guy next to you has fallen asleep.  Could you wake him up for me?'

Now, bearing in mind that Renee was both my colleague and my wife I should have probably thought through my response in a little more detail before leaping back with the riposte: 'You put him to sleep... you wake home up!'

Hmmm... it was the closest I've ever been to committing a 'Spare Room Offence'.  

Just a pound, a pound, just a pound

The first project Renee and I worked on together was one of the most interesting, entertaining and downright funny.

The customer was... er... a major supermarket.  The supermarket was introducing financial services products and we had to train a shop floor sales force who would be selling to customers who were wandering up and down aisles doing their weekly shop.

What could possibly go wrong?

To add an extra layer of complexity, we were training a lot of people.  From August to December each member of the training team (and there were 8 of us) took a group of 12-15 new delegates.  Therefore, of course, abilities were very, very mixed.

As well as training delegates to sell we were also training and signing off banking staff from a major High Street bank to deliver the training going forwards.

There you are - that's the background.

The first funny incident happened in the very first week.  Once again we were using a lot of video to accelerate learning and in this particular session we were role playing the sale of credit cards.

Now, the credit cards came in three flavours (almost literally) with raspberry, orange and lemon designed cards on offer.  There was a lady called Yah (I promise you that's the truth) who was selling and a young guy who was playing the customer.

Here's Yah's sales technique:

(She backed the young guy into a corner and was standing about 6 inches from him with her boobs pressed up against his arm): 'So what colour card do you want?'  Says she in a breathy, Eartha Kitt type voice.

'What's your favourite colour?  Mine's raspberry... I'll bet yours is too.  Would you like me to order you a raspberry card?  Raspberry is so... delicious.'

By this time the young fella has backed himself right up against the wall and can go no further.  Finally, he looks over to Renee in desperation and mouths the word 'Help...'

Unknowingly, Yah has moved an inch closer and is still breathing down the guy's ear: 'Perhaps orange is more to your liking...'

Renee looks back at the guy and mouths a word in return: 'No...'

But the funniest sales technique of all came when the whole roadshow moved to Chester.

One of the savings accounts on offer could be opened with an initial deposit of a pound.

All I can remember is an older lady who wore sandals (and needed a pedicure) who thought that the £1 initial deposit was the main reason for opening an account:

'You can open an account for a pound, just a pound, that's all you need: a pound.  Give me a pound and I'll open an account.  It's a pound, just a pound, a pound...'

And on and on and on and on it went!

Porridge

We used to work out of a training centre... You know the sort of place; close to an airport, modern facilities, rooms on site, that sort of thing.

A bit like the Big Brother house, except with trainers.

The training centre we used to use actually had 11 bedrooms and just sometimes we had more delegates than that.  If we had overspill we used to put the excess people into a bed and breakfast just a cross the road... they still had evening meals with us, but B and B was catered for.

It wasn't until one course when Renee and I realised that we were the overspill and had to go 'over the road' that we realised that things might need to change.

Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful place.  A big old Victorian villa set in half an acre of grounds, but there was something decidedly strange about it as a guest house.

First of all there was the dog.

A little Jack Russell.  Upstairs where the bedrooms were was huge.  At the top of the stairs there was a large landing with 6 bedrooms off it.  The dog had obviously been repeated told that it wasn't allowed to disturb the guests... so of course he had developed its own method for doing exactly that.

Starting at the top of the stairs the woofer would lie flat on its belly and use its front claws to pull itself across the austere landing, commando style, with his back legs trailing behind.

There would come a shout from the landlady and the dog would jump up onto all fours and saunter away as though nothing were happening.

Then there was the religious iconography... nothing wrong with that but there was lots of it.  Mostly pictures of the landlady meeting Pope John Paul II.  But there were figurines of Jesus above every bed and crosses just everywhere.

And then there was the food...

Before Renee and I stayed at the place we had put a couple of guys in the B and B.

One morning one of the guys came in looking somewhat... bloated.

During the morning's programme he looked as though he was struggling to stay awake and refused a croissant at the break.

So I asked him what was up.

Now, the landlady was very nice but a little stern, quite large and very Scottish and this guy was a southern softy.  I don't think he was quite prepared for the 'Come on wee mon... you're nobbut a slip o' a laddie.  Ah can see ah need to doo a bit o' feeding up!'

Apparently this happened as he was being shown to his room the previous evening and it seemed he took it very much to heart.

The next day at breakfast, which was huge, he was shown what he described as a cauldron of porridge.

'There ye are wee mon, get your porridge doon.'

And then she left... but not before the wee man realised he had to make a good impression.

So he waded his way through the whole bucket of stodge, coming up for air every so often.  He struggled manfully with it but eventually he made it to the bottom.

At this point the landlady came back in and noticed the porridge bowl was empty.

'Where's ma porridge?'  She asked looking in amazement at the empty cauldron.   'That was supposed te feed ma other 5 guests as well!'

The Two Way Mirror

Last week I talked about a long term contract Richard had down in Cobham and this blog is from that time, too.

Richard would run a course Monday to Friday.  Delegates would leave the course after a closing presentation from the CEO of the business Richard was working for about 4.30 on the Frday afternoon.  Then, when the delegates had all left the CEO always insisted that everyone had to go for and end of course drink.

It has to be said that the guy in question was a generous fella, so it was off to Esher and the R Bar for a bottle of champagne (if the course had gone well) or a pint of beer (if the delegates left a bit flat).

Richard maintains he never tasted the beer in the R Bar but we're not sure we believe him!

Anyway, the R Bar was (and probably still is) nice place with an exclusive clientelle (apart from us, of course), most of whom were either footballers, entertainers or something to to do with Formula 1.

(As an aside: one time when Renee had also been down running the course we all ended up in the R Bar and were joined by a guy who was a race consultant to Formula 1 teams... very tall and handsome he was, too. 

Now, if you've not met Richard before it is very unlikely you would ever describe him as tall or handsome... but neither is he the jealous sort.  Mr Formula 1 took quite a shine to Renee, so much so that the CEO deicded that he had to reassure Richard: 'Don't worry, mate,' he said.  'He may be taller and better looking than you but he's much more boring than you are!'

Thanks a bunch for the complement thought Richard.)

Anyway, back to the R Bar and the two way mirror.

Imagine the bar: as you walk in the bar itself is along the left hand wall, there are tables along the right.  At the far end of the bar the wall from ceiling to about 4 feet from the floor is covered by an enormous mirror.  To the right hand side of the back wall there's a corridor leading to the loos.

So, a little way into the evening, Richard decides he needs to go to the loo.  Down the corridor the gents was the first door on the left and the urinals were on the wall behind the mirror, which turns out to be two way!

You could stand at the urinals doing, well, what needs to be done quite frankly, whilst watching the punters in the bar itself.  Richard remembers seeing both Chris Tarrant and John Terry chatting whilst he was...

Very funny and interesting it was, if slightly uncomfortable... but things suddenly got much more uncomfortable.

Richard was at the left hand urinal, closest to the corner when, suddenly, on the other side of the mirror up pops the face of the CEO.  He looks through the mirror and downwards and points to Richard's Gentleman's area, laughs and pops away again... only to re-appear a few seconds later with his entire team who proceeded to gather round exactly opposite Richard, all looking just where they shouldn't have been.

Very off putting it was, too, because Richard couldn't work out whether it was gag or a switch had been flicked and the mirror was now just a piece of glass...

A Little Bobby Dazzler

Some time ago Richard had a long term contract delivering training darn sarth.

To be precise the training venue was the Hilton Hotel in Cobham, Surrey.  It was a posh place (Cobham and its surroundings, not necessarily the Hilton).  Chelsea FC had their training centre there and Jose, in his first stint as Chelsea manager, stipulated that all players had to live no more than ten minutes from the facility.

Hence the players all lived in Esher, five minutes up the road.

Richard actually spent so much time at the hotel in 2004 that he would leave his suit to be dry cleaned and Ahmed the receptionist used to say as Richard arrived back on Sunday night, 'Welcome back, Richard.  You're in your usual room...'

Anyway... Rick Wakeman, the world famous keyboard player used to hold an annual fund raiser at the hotel for all his show biz pals.  He might still do, for all Richard knows.

Richard was with the CEO of the company he was working for in the car park of the hotel when Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee rolled up in a whacking great 4 x 4.  Richard may have said something like: 'I really don't like this whole celebrity thing...'

In response, the guy he was with said, 'Watch this!'

He jumped out of his car and strode over to Paul Daniels with his hand outstretched to shake.  As he got closer he said: 'Hey, Paul, great to see you again.  Haven't got time to speak now... I'll see you inside.'

Paul shook his hand and shouted after him as he strode off: 'Yeah, sure... you can buy me a drink!'

Richard was a bit flabbergasted.  'I didn't know you knew Paul Daniels', he said.

'I don't,' said his companion.  'Never met him, never want to!'

And now for the point of the story.

Because Richard had got to know most of the hotel staff he was invited to the charity party and watched Rick Wakeman's fantastic band play a gig... if only from just inside the main door.

The celebs had had their dinner and a few drinks.  Richard saw Denis Waterman holding court with some other actors but he most remembers seeing  a celeb who we'll call Bobby D.

Now, he can't swear to it, obviously, but it seemed as though Bobby might have had a couple of sherberts.

Whether he had or not he was certainly pursuing a young lady across the dance floor.  The problem was she was having none of it and, right in front of Richard, she turned around and shouted at the top of her voice 'go away'.

Those weren't her exact words but you get the point.

In reply, Bobby looked very shocked before shouting back at her 'But I'm Bobby D!'

Bush

Welcome to the second of our blogs, remembering some of the funny things that have happened to us over the years.

This blog relates to our time running a sales training business.

We make massive use of video to train sales and this course was no exception...

The customer was a gardening franchise and we were training their franchisees.  They did everything you'd expect from a gardening franchise; mowed lawns, pruned hedges, looked after flower beds and, errrr, the other things gardeners do.  Scarification and Aeration, I would imagine.

In actual fact, the franchisees made the sales and employed gardeners to do the bit with mowers, pruners and all that other stuff.

(As an aside, have you ever read the instruction manual for a Hayter petrol driven lawn mower?  No?  Well, it'd pretty funny in its own right.  'To start the mower you must pump the nipple to make sure it's turned on...')

Anyway, we were working with a group of franchisees and were filming the second lot of videos - the one where we prove to the franchisees that they really can sell.  The franchisee doing the selling was a youngish lad, probably about 21, something like that.  I have to say, though, he was a little naive...

His dad had bought him the franchise to help him 'man up'.  I'm not kidding.  Before joining this business the lad had been cabin crew with British Airways... you see where his dad was going?

He was a great chap and actually really good at the selling side of things; his customer service background with BA had really stood him in good stead.

His customer was another franchisee on the course.  A slightly older lady, probably about 55-60 years of age.  She was there with her husband and they were going to run the business together.

Renee was filming.

So, the young guy had measured up the lawn and talked about the flower beds.  Now he looked down to the bottom of the garden, looked back at his customer and said without any hint of self-awareness:

'Now, your bush looks a bit ropey.  Do you want me to trim that for you?'

The camera starts shaking as Renee begins silently laughing and there's pandemonium in the training room.

But, bless her heart, the customer retained her self composure on film and just looked at the lad.  Then she replied:

'No thank you.  My husband does that for me!'

Well, that was it... it took half an hour for the laughter to stop, only to re-start over dinner that evening.

But the thing is, to this day, the young lad does not know what we were all laughing at!

Sleeper on a course

I thought I'd start writing a new series of blogs about funny times Richard and I have experienced over our several years in business as trainers, accountants and a few other things, too...

The first in the series is from Richard and harks back to the time when we ran a training business together!

We've all had a sleeper on a course... well, it's inevitable when you've been doing it for a while.

I first experienced it when I worked for an army regiment, helping the officers with decision making.  I'd done my bit before lunch, which was very good (the lunch, I mean) and was served in the Officer's Mess.

In the afternoon we all filed into the lecture theatre where a distinguished looking old boy in full military fig proceeded to be very pedantic about decisions.

I was sitting next to two officers called Rupert and Tarquin.  Rupert looks over to Tarquin, folds his arms and says, 'My God this is boring; I'm going to sleep...'  which he did.

The officer who was lecturing noticed this and said to Tarquin: 'I say, my good man, the fellow next to you has gone to sleep.  Would you wake him up for me?'

To which Tarquin replies, quick as a flash: 'You put him to sleep, you wake him up!'

Brilliant!

I thought to myself Richard, lad, you need to salt that one away for future use.

About 10 years later Renee and I were running a course together.  It was a big group and Renee was presenting after lunch.  One guy was particularly, errr, rotund and had had a large lunch.  And a glass of Chianti - he was there with his son who was the one actually on the course.

Anyway, the guy drops off to sleep and I was sitting next to him.

I couldn't believe my luck when Renee said: 'The guy next to you, Richard, has fallen asleep you couldn't just wake him up could you?'

Well, I think you can see where this is going.  Without thinking I said, in front of the group: 'You put him to sleep, you wake him up!'

Pandemonium!

Anyway, as it turned out my ill judged comment turned out to be a spare room offence.  Never mind; it was very funny!

Toot as much as you like, wee man

I was dropping my husband off at the airport sometime during the middle of the night.

Actually it was 6 in the morning but it felt like the day before, if you see what I mean.

Edinburgh Airport (where Scotland meets the world (apparently)) is like most airports in that they try to shaft every last penny from the poor traveller... although I have to say Edinburgh isn't as bad as Norwich Airport which actually charges you £10 to use security!

The particular charge I'm on about is the £1 you have to pay to drop someone off at the airport unless you want to dump them a mile and a half away.  Anyway, it doesn't seem like a lot and I always have my pound ready to throw into the coin bin.

This morning my pound was made up from a 50p piece, 2 20p pieces and a 10p.

The 50p went in fine, as did the 20p pieces but, OMG, my 10p was rejected!

I had to jump out of the car to pick up the 10p from the reject bin (which was nowhere near  where I could get at it easily) before trying again.

As I got out the guy behind revved his engine at me.

Why?

Did he think I was having my 10p rejected deliberately to naff him off?

So I asked him.  'Why are you revving your engine?'  Said I.  He just looked at me sheepishly and sort of waved apologetically.

Anyway, I found 2 5p pieces to replace my 10p and threw them in the bin... I think you can probably see where this is going.

Yes, they were rejected, too.

So it was out of the car, into the boot where my purse was to find more coins.

This time there was a toot of a horn.

My head snapped round... the guy behind who had revved his engine earlier smiled wanly at me and shrugged his shoulders.  His message was clear: 'It wasn't me love.  Have a go at someone else.'

So I did.

'You can toot as much as you like,' I shouted at the tooter.  Do you think I'm doing this on purpose?  Or maybe you'd like me to crash through the barrier so you can be out 10 seconds sooner.'

Don't get me wrong, I'm as impatient as the next person if, say, a driver has missed a traffic light turning green.  But, come on, tooting your horn for something that's not in my control?

A lesson for me there, too.  Impatience in work is fine.  There's a job to do and we have to get on with it.  But I'm not going to get frustrated at the wrong things.

Oh, and by the way, my second 10p, extracted from the depths of my purse worked fine.