I was out with my usual bevy of gay men on Sunday. We ran away with the pub quiz and won a free drink each. As my prize I sampled rhubarb gin for the first time and am now a convert. I wonder if you can make that stuff.
One of my friends was regaling us with tales of the free holidays he'd been on by accepting the chance of viewing timeshare properties.. He'd been all over the place and had some good trips away after accepting in advance that a day would be taken up by the heavy sell. He'd seen variations on the theme of beige apartments in many different countries. The trip to the complexes was livened up by a challenge of being dismissed as soon as possible as a time waster. Mock religious fervour seemed to do the trick nicely. The timeshare dudes also lured him into a presentation being held in London by guaranteeing one prize from a dazzling list: a Ferrari, a massive TV or a stick blender. He had his eye on one of those right from the start.
The sales tack revolved around stressing the family friendliness of the complex on offer. 'Look,' said my friend camping it up big time. That's no good to me. I'm a screaming queer and being surrounded by a load of noisy kids would be my worst nightmare. Give me illicit drugs and a gay orgy around the pool. Now that would be my kind of holiday!' The alarmed rep backed off and bought back his manager. So my friend went through his list of requirements once more and mustered up even more alarmingly adult activities. I think he's really more of a museum and ice cream parlour kind of guy but isn't it wonderful where the imagination can lead us? 'Now can I have my Ferrari?' he added hopefully. The sales crew admitted defeat. 'Get him his blender.' the boss said to his minion. My friend was ecstatic. He went away with what he'd came for, as he was missing an item of vital kitchen equipment. Apparently it saw good service for years.