Miss Grumpy
Registered Shopper
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2015
- Messages
- 431
Does anyone remember those American guests who crossed the Atlantic regularly to sell us products, until they were frightened of flying after 9/11?
It must have been the last flush of my post menopausal hormones, but I thought they were wonderfully attractive, and spent hundreds of pounds on their, mainly cleaning, products. We recently mentioned Fat Marvin, who caused me to repeatedly order chocolate bars, despite the evidence of him to the contrary that they were a slimming aid.
But mainly they sold things to clean our counter-tops (work surfaces) and carpeting (carpets). There was the Oreck man, whose spiel made you think that vacuuming with his hotel-approved models made you a permanent resident of the Four Seasons in Hollywood. They sold potions to which you added water to make gallons of cleanser for your swimming pool, in preparation for your pool party. I still have a tub of the pink stuff under my sink, fifteen years later, like the ashes in an urn of a dear departed relative I don't want to let go of. It was made of seaweed, and you melted a lump of pink stuff in the microwave, with water. It then turned into a rather disappointing sticky grey goo, rather like frogspawn or a gynaecological discharge.
But I went off them when they stopped flying. We went through the Blitz, you know, yellow Yankees.
It must have been the last flush of my post menopausal hormones, but I thought they were wonderfully attractive, and spent hundreds of pounds on their, mainly cleaning, products. We recently mentioned Fat Marvin, who caused me to repeatedly order chocolate bars, despite the evidence of him to the contrary that they were a slimming aid.
But mainly they sold things to clean our counter-tops (work surfaces) and carpeting (carpets). There was the Oreck man, whose spiel made you think that vacuuming with his hotel-approved models made you a permanent resident of the Four Seasons in Hollywood. They sold potions to which you added water to make gallons of cleanser for your swimming pool, in preparation for your pool party. I still have a tub of the pink stuff under my sink, fifteen years later, like the ashes in an urn of a dear departed relative I don't want to let go of. It was made of seaweed, and you melted a lump of pink stuff in the microwave, with water. It then turned into a rather disappointing sticky grey goo, rather like frogspawn or a gynaecological discharge.
But I went off them when they stopped flying. We went through the Blitz, you know, yellow Yankees.