Walking along Barons Court Road with Bertie we were accosted by a bearded man in, I suppose, his 50s.
He was fiddling with what looked like a small TV remote control. He did not say hello to Bertie; his first mistake. Instead he launched into his pitch. He only had a burner ‘phone – the thing he was holding – and wanted me to use my ‘phone to obtain the telephone number for Lloyds. Please correct me but I do not think it is possible to pronounce an apostrophe so I was unsure if he meant the insurance market or the bank. I, correctly, guessed the latter and told him there is a branch in King Street, Hammersmith. He told me there is a branch in North End Road. He then complained that I wouldn’t help and walked off.
He was either too stupid or too lazy to tell his tale in the approved way. He should have had a word or two with Bertie, then explained at leisure why he needed to talk to a bank. Then I might have become hypnotised and pulled out my ‘phone, at which point he would have snaffled it. I admire an old-fashioned conman but it seems standards are slipping – a dying breed.
There have been three great give-away advertising campaigns in my time. First, Hoover in 1992; buy a Hoover for £100 and get two free return air tickets to the US, or get two air tickets and a free Hoover for £100. Hoover were weaselly and didn’t deliver. I did not participate. Today BA offers free companion tickets on a similarly weaselly basis – not actually dishonest ‘cos that’s stoatally different.
Anyway I had so many boxes of Persil I had no room for a Hoover.
I was a regular on the London to Carlisle line. Fortuitously four of us could travel first class for the price of one ticket through a loophole not generally available.
But the best ad campaign was Walkers crisps. I was alerted to it by colleagues in the office and it was pure fun. I won £60 and was left with a lotta bags of crisps.