Brataslavian Bluff

While out for our usual Friday lunchtime meander my mate David and I thought, as the sun was unseasonably shining today, to take a stroll up Buchanan Street and eat al-fresco, however half of Glasgow unfortunately had the same idea and the top of the street was a tad heavin'.

We were about to give up on the idea when we spotted a team of sales reps who had set up their display consisting of a table-come-display stand and 3 rather handy and unoccupied chairs.

It was then we decided to hatch our cunning plan to grab a prime comfy seat to park our bums and enjoy oor pieces and while the sales reps were busy we casually sat on the empty chairs and started to tuck into our lunch trying to hold back the sniggers as the two unwitting reps approached us and asked if they could help.

At that very moment David and I suddenly became fluent in Brataslavian whilst at the same time completely losing the ability to understand let alone speak English.

After several minutes of frantic Lionel Blair - Give Us A Clue impersonations from the reps and a lot a very convincing shoulder shrugging intertwined with the occasional "Da, Da" and the odd "How far please to the nearest duck pond" from yours truly and my accomplice the now quite frustrated reps eventually gave up and went to dish out some information leaflets leaving us to finish our lunch in supreme comfort.

Needless to say we received some rather dirty looks when we stood up to go and shouted over to our foes "cheers" in a curiously familiar Glasgow twang.