Sunday, 7 February 2010

Justice for Vance Miller

My trust in good old British justice has been restored. Just when I thought that the socialists were running rampant and squeezing the last drop of entrepreneurial spirit out of this once proud nation, good sense has prevailed.

I refer of course to the plight of Vance Miller – the King of Kitchens, and a top bloke. The Trading Standards mob have hounded the poor lad. Now, he’s free to pursue his business after the Judge threw the case out. Sounds like one of the Trading Standards blokes got a bit obsessed. They do, you know. I had this VAT investigator after me once who even started dressing like me and eating in San Carlo every Friday. I knew he’d lost the plot when I spotted him in Long Legs under assault from some scrubber from Oldham with, to be fair, magnificent charlies.

But enough of that. The New Year has brought its usual bag of surprises. Our finance director resigned, thinking he can go on to bigger and better things. Now, you know these Coronation Street so-called “stars” who do two years at it, get in the papers, get a new agent, go on Big Brother, or the Jungle, or something and think they can take Hollywood by storm? Well, that’s what this bloke is like. He’d be better off reflecting that the smartest one on Corrie Street is Ken Barlow – been at it 50 years, lives in a big house in Wilmslow. The turncoat will be back when he realises he’s only got where he is because I let him.

Once they come back after Christmas all these muppets here need reminding of what they’re here to do. So I get them in a room and give them a proper facts of life lecture. I’ve had these big posters done up for the sales floor – big pictures of me bearing down on them – “Bring me solutions, not problems!”, “Just Sort It!”, “You’re the cream? Well I’d hate to taste the milk!”.

I give them the usual hairdryer treatment; you know how that works; knock ‘em down to pick them up.

Some of the lads from Alderley went to some business do last month called RAW. I was asked to get involved, but it didn’t look like my cup of tea. For a start, they should have called it WAR – because that’s what REAL business is like.

All my worst suspicions were confirmed when I heard the car park was full of Porsche Boxsters and Audis R8s. Hardly my class of motor, are they? And who in Salford Quays could you trust to valet park a Hummer?

An open goal for entrepreneurs

Am I the only person left who still thinks Dubai is ace? Me and Mrs C had a pre-Christmas break - she likes the shopping and the skiing and I’d heard a whisper the Stevie Gerrard Tower might be available for a song now everything’s going tits up. They keep going on about unsustainable debt levels, but there’s still plenty of Russkis and Afghans about, but the good thing is all the scrotes have bailed out, that night flight from Ringway was starting to look like the Agadoo express. No class.

Out of despair comes happiness, for some. When your mind moves as fast as mine, it’s easy to forget that not everyone’s blessed with the natural ability to be a winner. One man’s hapless idiot is another man opportunity.

Take debt, which I’ve never been shy of doing. We’ve set up RC Money Saving Expert Solutions - a loans business. We run cheap ads on daytime telly and then just waited for the calls to flood in. Your sales jockeys take the calls, act sympathetic and “refer” the request to a “boss” who obviously refuses it – you don’t want to end up actually giving out cash after all.

But you follow this kick in the goolies up with an arm round the shoulder, by referring the punter to a sister company in debt management – the lad at the next desk, or even the same one if he’s good at accents.

We then sign the punter up to one affordable monthly payment at whatever per cent he thinks he can get away with, all in exchange for offering advice they could get for free if they had the wit to look up some cuddly public sector cardigan-wearing types on the internet. It’s flawless, and best of all unstifled by the type of regulation that’s holding British business back.

The only problem is we had that Donal MacIntyre sniffing around – the one who made a berk of himself going undercover with the Chelsea lads a few years back. He was on the radio - kicking up a fuss about it, but why should entrepreneurs miss an open goal in the meantime? As someone once told me, “When we’re good they never remember, when we’re bad they never forget.”