There is a programme we watch on one of the satellite channels
It’s one where two antique experts travel the country in an antique vehicle scouring antique shops for bargains. Their ill-gotten gains are then auctioned off to see who gets the most profit [all profits of course go to a children’s charity]. Okay, it’s a bland programme but it’s better than the shite on all the other channels.
Normally their travels cover great distances throughout England Scotland and Wales. The programme this week however started in Ireland. This of course gave rise to great hilarity as the English commentator made a right fucking hames of the pronunciation of even the simplest place names.
The two contestants were Tom [a nonentity] and Christine who isn’t that bad looking. Leastwise I wouldn’t chuck her out of bed for eating biscuits. Her technique usually is to put on a wheedling voice and bat her eyelashes when trying to bargain down a price. They were traveling around in an ancient Bedford van.
Anyhows, having scoured various shops around the country they ended up in Dublin [actually it was Rathmines to be more precise. I know my Dublin]. Christine went into an antique shop apparently run by a very tall [six foot six, he claimed] person of Darkest Continental heritage. You could see he fancied Christine.
She poked around and found an item she liked. It had a ticket price of around fifty five euros.
“I’ll give you ten for it” says Christine, batting the eyelashes furiously.
“I can’t go that low” says Yer Man. “I can come down to fifteen.”
Christine pondered this for a moment.
“I really don’t want to pay any more than ten” she mused. “I’ll tell you what! I’ll offer you ten and I’ll give you a ride in my van. It’s parked just outside.”
Yer Man’s face lit up. This was the deal of the century. He eagerly agreed.
Sadly, she just drove him around the block.
You could almost smell the disappointment.