Good try Bluey. Don't like threads with no replies, so I'll just say this to get the thread rolling - I went to Yeovil on a Sunday once, but it wasn't to watch fooball - I'll explain.
I used to deal with a guy who had a business in Yeovil and went on quite a few sales trips (jollies) with him. One was to Barcelona where we went to visit a bath manufacturer who had been recommended by an agent as a good source of acrylic products. Fck me! - it was like stepping back into the dark ages!! Old guys in ****ty conditions with ***s hanging in the corner of their mouths hand moulding resin and fibreglass to the bottom of vacuum formed tubs. The bonus was a visit to the Nou Camp as an inducement to trade with them - now to be fair, that was worth a small order....
Another time, we went to a German furniture manufacturer based in Bavaria - now that was something else. Top quality gear and their people had to do **** all to get us on board other than provide some good food. One midday meal was supposed to be a "light lunch" - it turned out to be half a bloody wild boar on a plate each - we couldn't move afterwards. Except for our Colin from Yeovil. He borrowed about 500 Marks (yes it was Marks in those days) in cash from me to go to Munich that night because being out in the sticks where we were was doing his head in. He got a taxi back from Munich(about 50 Km) to our hotel in the early hours and blew all my money - the bastard!
I have to say the poor guy's business eventually went bust, but before the **** actually hit the fan for him, I was contacted by the supplier's agent. He asked me to do him a favour and take a few of my guys in a large van down to his place in Yeovil to collect a load of gear he hadn't paid for (very expensive gear too!). Not a very nice experience either as he wouldn't let me and my guys in.....

What was really worrying though was that he'd told me a few years previously that he'd started dealing with people in Russia (they'd just started opening up under Yeltsin's perestroika), and he had a handgun that he kept for protection....
I eventually got him to see reason and after some reminiscing, he relented and we loaded the stuff on the van and brought it back home. I asked the agent what he wanted to do with it. He said - "make the suppliers an offer and we'll see what they say". I told them I didn't really want it


, but offered a ridiculously low figure. They came back and said OK - I was gobsmacked and couldn't give the agent a cheque quick enough. I later sold it on and made a bloody bomb. I know, I know, I can hear you shouting now - you scheming capitalist bastards should be shot!!!!.......
Post scipt: - After that crossroads in his life, "Colin" embarked upon a new career as a disc jockey down Bournemouth/Weymouth way. I bumped into him some time later at a function in Bath's Royal Crescent Hotel. He was wearing a sharp suit and driving a brand new red Porsche 911 Targa. We had a drink and he reckoned I did him a favour that day outside his place in Yeovil, so I'm not all that bad eh?
(feel like I'm keeping this bloody site going myself sometimes

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