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This is a question Abusing freebies

A friend of mine recently attended a 'Champaign Lunch', where he was compelled drink as much fizzy stuff as he could between the first and last courses. In an ideal world we'd ask restaurant staff to tell us stories about fatties stuffing themselves at All You Can Eat places, but we recognise that our members don't all work in the catering trade, so for the rest of you - tell us something about abusing freebies. BTW: Bee puns = you fail.

(, Thu 8 Nov 2007, 14:16)
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Scottish Invasion
About a year ago, I was working in the sales team at T-mobile. Shit job, but the commission was good.

Anyway, they had recently launched a 'Web and Walk' contract add-on that allowed you to get the internet through your phone. As it was a new product, they were offering us six quid commission on EVERY one we sold. "Result" thinks I, and I go on to offer it in almost every call. I sold to old people, young people, guys and girls, and at the end of the month I had sold something like 40 of them, earning me about 240 quid on top of my usual commission and wage. I put the money towards a new computer, and thought no more of it.

Turns out there was an additional bonus we hadn't been told about. You see, T-Mobile were one of the sponsors of last years World Cup, and, as an additional sales incentive, the top 40 sales people for that month would be flown out to watch a game in Germany. And I had ended up in the top 40. Me and one other guy from our centre, whose name was Alan - the only two Scotsmen, going to watch the England Vs Trinidad and Tobago game. Joy.

The day before the match we flew from Glasgow to London, paid for by the company. Got down there about 10ish and caught a cab to our hotel, where everyone was meeting up. We had to be up at 6 the next morning to catch the flight to Nuremberg, so we were planning to get to bed pretty early. We put our bags into our rooms, then figured we'd head down to the hotel bar and see if anyone else was down there. We found a table with other T-Mobile employees and introduced ourselves. After chatting for a bit, one of them asked, "Are you not gonna get yourselves a drink?" We were pretty skint, and told him so. "Oh, that's alright" he said, then came out with the sweetest words in the English language - "It's a free bar"

Free bar? Hell fucking yes. We felt like Jonathan King in a nursery. A pint and a triple whisky to start, then a few vodkas, bottles of Magners, and whatever else took our fancy. Everyone else started heading off to bed, muttering that they had to get up early (lightweights). It ended up being just me, Alan and a Geordie boy left, locked in a drinking battle till the early hours of the morning. At one point, we decided to try a shot of everything from the top row of the bar. Advocaat is fucking disgusting, incidentally. Eventually gave up around 2 and stumbled about the hotel, trying to remember where our rooms were. The place was fucking massive. After half an hour, we remembered our room numbers were printed on our keys, and eventually got to bed about 3am. I had to physically drag myself out of it again at 6. After showering, changing and eating half a packet of Pro Plus caffeine tablets, I felt somewhere near normal again. We managed to choke down some breakfast without throwing up before being ferried to a private terminal to wait for our flight. The Geordie we'd been drinking with earlier hadn't turned up, and the flight was delayed while they phoned the hotel to wake him up.

While we were waiting, we were offered refreshments from, wait for it, yet another free bar. Two Bloody Marys and a vodka and fresh orange later, we were ushered onto a private plane, swaying slightly and no doubt stinking of booze. On the plane, we were just getting to sleep when an air hostess came round offering drinks.

"Champaigne sir?"

"Yes please. Leave the bottle love"

On touching down, I was like a monkey with no arms - completely out my tree. The guard at passport control took one look at me, swaying in the non-existant breeze with a huge grin plastered across my face, and asked, "Are you alright sir?"

"Aye, mate, I'm fucking brilliant."

"Ah, so you're Scottish," he said, as if that explained everything, and handed me my passport back. We got bored of waiting for everyone else to get through passport control, so me and Alan decided to explore the airport for a bit. Being quite drunk already, this perhaps wasn't the best idea, and unsurprisingly we ended up getting lost. We eventually found our way outside where everyone else was sitting on a bus, waiting for us. After a minor bollocking from one of the bosses, we were off to the Hilton hotel for some hospitality. For 'hospitality,' read 'more free drink.' This trip was getting better and better...

There was a buffet set up in the middle of a massive ballroom which we immediately gravitated to. Normal buffet procedure, as I'm sure you're all aware, is to pick up a plate and politely pile a few items onto it for eating later, NOT to stand in the middle of the table stuffing your face with as much food as you can, blocking everyone else from getting in. Guess which option we chose?

After our display of drunken gluttony, we noticed waiters moving serenely around the room, taking drinks orders. There were 4 exotic sounding German lagers to choose from. Not having tasted any of them before, we took the only sensible option. "I'll have one of each Hanz, and keep them coming" At this point, we were drawing a lot of dirty looks, and there seemed to be some barely hidden tutting at our behaviour. Did we care? Did we fuck. Free drink is free drink.

God knows how we made it to the stadium - we were all over the place. We had started singing 'Flower of Scotland,' and 'Scotland the brave' with our arms around each others shoulders on the walk over, and everyone else seemed to be trying to avoid walking beside us. I can't imagine why.

We passed a stall selling memerobilia for the match, and, in our drunken state, decided it would be a great idea to buy Trinidad and Tobago scarves. After all, it's not like we were supporting England (and if any England fans think this is out of order, let me put it this way. If, by some magic stroke of luck, Scotland manage to qualify for Euro 2008, and England don't, would you even consider supporting Scotland? Didn't think so). After making our purchases, we staggered on to the stadium, and tried to find our seats.

Turns out they were slap bang in the middle of a sea of England supporters. Rowdy, noisy, aggressive England supporters. But we didn't care - we were running solely on alcohol and adrenaline by this stage. During the match, whenever Trinidad and Tobago had possession we were up out our seats cheering them on, and when England eventually scored our shouts of 'Offside!' were thankfully drowned out by the rest of the crowd. At one point, one of the England players was fouled, and our shouts of 'Come on ref! That was a blatant dive' started to attract the attention of a number of big, scary looking England fans. Someone in the crowd told us to shut up, which only added fuel to the fire. We again sang 'Flower of Scotland,' but changed the lyrics to 'Flower of Trinidad.' I don't know if you've ever experienced hundreds of people turning to stare at you with violence in their eyes, but it's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy.

Somehow, we survived with only a few insults hurled our way. The rest of the T-Mobile contest winners were seated around us, and I could see them flinching as we booed the England team whenever they had the ball. England eventually won two nil - I really hate to think what would've happened if they'd lost. I suspect our bodies would never have been found.

The rest of the day is hazy - I can barely remember the flight home. Not long after getting back, I had a disciplinary meeting to discuss 'my conduct at work-related events.'

Strangely enough, I never won another sales incentive, no matter how good my sales figures were.

And that's the story of how I wrecked a freebie for everyone else involved. My mother would be proud.
(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 14:53, 16 replies)
Great story....but.....
GAH! I'm fed up of the Scots/Irish/Welsh bleating on about not supporting England cos the English won't support them.

I always support the home nations (unless they are playing England of course) and lots of English people do, but the Scots/Irish/Welsh prefer not to believe this so they have an excuse not to support England in major tournaments.

PS I'm a T-Mobile customer - any chance of an upgrade?? I hope Scotland beat Italy and qualify! If they do I'm definetly supporting them as I don't think England are going to!

(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 15:21, closed)
"Ah, so you're Scottish"
You know, I think that does explain everything!
(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 17:21, closed)
I remember that game!
I am supremely unathletic (think big fat American) but I was grocery shopping that day and they had a TV tuned to the game in the food court at Meijer's. (think sort of weird Tesco's founded by Dutch Reformers) I caught the last 5 minutes of the game.
I sat down next to a bunch of Carribean guys and screamed my lungs out in the middle of the sedate, boring, quiet Midwestern supermarket.
(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 19:31, closed)
would I even consider supporting Scotland?
... sure, why not? Any British team is as much worth supporting as the next one. I've never understood this Scots-have-to-hate-the-English nonsense...
(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 22:30, closed)
Being an English student at a Scottish uni...
I can fully understand why scots hate the english. The way some english folk behave is terrible.

I couldn't really give a shit about the football really. Might go and watch the boys from the don play one day.
(, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 23:25, closed)
We British should stick together.
"If, by some magic stroke of luck, Scotland manage to qualify for Euro 2008, and England don't, would you even consider supporting Scotland?"

Of course I would! I am English.. and British. If I can't support England, then I'll support the next best thing. So of course I would support Scotland over any other team in the world.. especially bloody Trinidad & Tobago!

I do wish that Scottish people would stop assuming that English people dislike them - and then reacting seemingly likewise. Nothing could be further from the truth.
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 1:10, closed)
Good Tale
Hae a click.

But, as a Northumbrian, I always support the Home Nations. I'm even extra generous and support Eire as well.

But you know what they say.

"A Scotsman is only a Northumbrian with his brains kicked out"

Hoots Mon The Noo

Legless (Still gets a click though...)
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 5:56, closed)
I want any home nation to win
unless playing England, obviously.

I really hope Scotland qualify - they've played exceptionally well and deserve it. More so than our overpaid cry-babies.

I don't know why the haggis munchers have to display such racism.
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 9:43, closed)
If We Going To Be Racist
About the Scots then an Italian mate of mine, Dario The Wop, has a great name for them.

He calls them:

"Porridge Wogs"

(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 10:30, closed)
do stop trying to cover up your racism with a justification that we're as bad. We're not.

I'm half English, half Scottish and I went to a Welsh uni. The Welsh refuse to support the English, the Scots refuse to support the English and the English will support any one of you lot.

It's pathetic. Get over yourselves.
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 11:16, closed)
Chip on the shoulder
You will find that many Scots support two teams in international football - Scotland, and whoever is playing England. It seems to be a chip on the collective Scottish shoulder.

I think it's more to do with the media, to be honest. Remember 1966 was over 40 years ago, FFS. I actually would like to see England qualify for the Euro championship (along with Scotland of course). But the problem is that when England play, we hear about nothing else, which is why we (myself included) like to see the dismal faces of Jimmy Hill et al when England lose, although I feel sorry for the players.

But it's only football. I like to see England winning at cricket for example.

And I think we Scots would do well to remember the disproportionately large amount of money which we receive per capita from Westminster before voting for Alex Salmond's grand independence plans.

(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 11:26, closed)
The players deserve to lose, the overpaid cry baby tossers!

Really, I like seeing us win playing well, but I think our players need a kick in the arse and shouldn't qualify.

Therefore I will be finding a skirt and ginger wig!
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 11:55, closed)
Actually DP
On the subject of English football players, I would rather like to smash Wayne Rooney's face in.

But that's not because he's an English football player. It's because he's a twattish, arrogant little chav.

You are very welcome to support Scotland though. We'll need all the help we can get to beat Italy!
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 12:00, closed)
I was born in England
but I consider myself British. What exactly is the English national identity these days anyway?

Scotland is a beautiful place and Scottish people are generally lovely. There's really no excuse for projecting this kind of nationalistic paranoia. It's an irrelevant, anachronism which only serves to reinforce a deep-rooted and entirely baseless inferiority complex.

Nice story anyway... and the best of luck to the Scottish football team for the rest of the qualifiers.
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 12:01, closed)
I seem to have opened a can of worms here. I'd better clarify my position.

I have nothing against the English people - I had a good mate all through high school who had just moved up from London, and I treated him no different because of it. I don't think independence is a good idea, and I genuinely don't mind being called British. I should also point out I'm not racist in any way shape or form (and to all the people who suggested I might be - shame on you. It's only fucking football - I'm not suggesting concentration camps for all English people)

*Deep Breath*

In saying that, I have a genuine hatred of the English football team, and them alone. I put this down to hearing about fucking 1966 EVERY TIME a major tournament comes around. Also, if you watch Match of the Day it's like Scotland doesn't even fucking exist. The fact we've been pretty shit until recently plays a part too. You could call it jealousy if you were so inclined.

So there - while I have nothing against you, I think your football team's a bunch of cunts.

Oh, and I quite like the terms 'porridge wog' and 'haggis muncher.' Shame it had to come from tea-drinking bowler twats ;)

That is all

P.S. Mon the Scots
(, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 14:46, closed)
Sounds like
perfectly reasonable behaviour to me.

And I'm English (though with a Gaelic core) ;-)
(, Tue 13 Nov 2007, 23:54, closed)

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