This is the original version of the article produced for the Derby Telegraph on 01.04.14
As this was written for April Fool's Day, I
thought it might be appropriate to tell you about a few situations of extreme
gullibility. I suppose the first thing I
should say is that I'm certainly not in a position to take the moral high
ground here. When it comes to
gullibility, I'm your man. Not that I'm
constantly sending money to claim lottery wins that I haven't entered, or
trying to pay for the release of funds from Nigerian bank accounts, thank
heavens, but I am rather suggestible and, therefore, easily convinced.
For example, about 12 years ago I
was sent on a course which involved an extremely charismatic chap who helped
you to visualise your goals and, allegedly, achieve them. One of our senior managers had, apparently,
taken this course and was very impressed, so we all trooped off to Glasgow to
do likewise. On the first morning, the
charismatic bloke announced that there would be a coffee break at 10.30 but
that would be the last one, as we
wouldn't be drinking coffee ever again.
I think we all wondered if this meant that the coffee was so vile it would
turn us off it for life! Instead, later
that morning, he put the whole hall of people through a form of self-hypnosis
during which he convinced us that coffee was not something we would want to
drink again.
Now, I used to really like
coffee, the stronger the better in fact.
However, since that session I have only had three cups of coffee, and
two of those were because I didn't want to upset the person who had kindly made
a cup for me. I just can't bring myself
to want to drink it. Given this level of
suggestibility, you can see why I avoid stage hypnotism like the plague and I'm
a sucker for April Fool's pranks.
I don't usually perpetrate April
Fool's and suchlike for the twin reasons that (a) I wouldn't like them
perpetrated on me and (b) I can never think of anything remotely
convincing. 40 years ago, however, I did
work with one chap who was brilliant at this and, somehow along the way, I
became his unwitting straight man.
At this particular organisation,
there was a ritual whereby the handful of managers and office staff in the organisation,
were called to the General Office in the morning and afternoon for tea or
coffee (which I could still drink then).
The Office Junior was tasked with
the unenviable job of making all of these drinks and then telephoning to call
us to our steaming cups. This girl was young,
pretty and very friendly but a little naïve in some ways. Colin was a departmental manager, rather
handsome, with the ability to charm birds off trees, and he delighted in
winding this girl up. I, on the other
hand, was seen as rather serious and somewhat nerdy (you've seen the pictures
so you'll know what I mean).
One day, as we were standing
drinking our tea/coffee in the General Office, Colin was expounding that he
always insisted on having leather soles for his shoes. The Office Junior inevitably asked why this
was and Colin responded, in all seriousness, that his Doctor had prescribed
them for his hearing loss. I was just
about to take issue with this, when I noticed a sly and almost imperceptible
wink. Thrilled to be allowed into the
game, I concurred it was a well known fact that leather soles were an aid to
impaired hearing. My testimony swung the
day and the Office Junior was eager to hear more from Colin about this
wonderful advance in hearing technology.
He and I kept this up for weeks, and I'm not sure that he ever did tell
her the truth.
My ability to keep a straight
face and to agree with whatever story Colin came up with, no matter how
surreal, was something we employed again and again and I think it became a
challenge to him to think up increasingly bizarre and unbelievable yarns.
Inevitably, I was tempted to have
a go on my own account, as I'll tell you next time.
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