The Exhibitor

An exhibitor at Olympia is pacing excitedly and making what he thinks is a covert call on his mobile.

EXHIBITOR: Stu? ‘Smee. Where are you? Where..? Are they giving owt away? No? F*ck ‘em then. Listen Stu, I’ve just ‘ad these two birds come over like…Yeah absolute f*cking knockout. Ooh aye, out to ‘ere man, short skirts, the lot… Nah they’re not punters they’re showing… Dunno leather something… Look they might be up for it… Well let’s take ‘em for a drink. Yeah, yeah… Ring? Na-yo I took it off…Well use some soap then… soap… Well I don’t know maybe she won’t care… Aw go on! Go on mate… Goooo on! Honest mate they’re not slappers or owt… Alriiiiight! Alright… Yeah see you in five. By t’singing fish… Aye. See ya.

He disconnects.

EXHIBITOR: (to himself) Aw I love this place.