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!'