In message 200105031716_MC2-CEC9-6D8F@compuserve.com, Leia Fee Sha_Ka_Ree@compuserve.com writes
I nearly bounced off my seat, usually people look at me blankly when I mention B7 or summon up some memory of 'some old Sci-FI program'
(Drags out well-worn story, the newbies haven't heard it even if the rest of you have.)
A few years ago, mid to late 1996 to be precise, I was shopping for lab equipment. This being of the nature of a major purchase, I was going to visit a couple of suppliers to see the kit in action at their premises. One of the suppliers was some 300 miles from where I worked - and only 20 miles from Ashford, home of the last Who's 7 con. Guess which day I arranged an appointment for? That's right, the Monday after the con.
So I explained to the sales rep why I wanted to go that particular Thursday or Monday, and imagine my surprise when I get what I eventually classified as "standard semi-mundane male reaction on mention of B7"...
(What is it with blokes and fantasies about Servalan, anyway?)
Yes, I did get the mileage paid for at the standard rate. And one night's lodging and meals. My boss knew perfectly well why I'd picked that date, but his view was that it was a legitimate business trip that he'd have had to pay for anyway, and at least I hadn't minded travelling that distance.