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Haywood_Milton · 5 February 2018, 08:30 AM

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Trying to Sell Fake Rolex, Greater M'cer & Merseyside

Reviewer : "M. J. Hay(n)es, Nottingham" on Trip Advisor since 1st September 2017

Travelling with : partner, no children

Date of Visit : 1st February 2018

•••OO - Parking
••••O - Welcome
••OOO - Service
•OOOO - Value for Money
•••OO - Refreshments available
•OOOO - Likely to return

"My business partner and I left home in Nottingham mid-morning (we don't work like normal people and so can avoid the rush hour). Knowing it's a long journey and our respective weaknesses, I packed three packets of cigarettes while he threw in a 12-pack of sausage rolls, party bag of crisps and 2 litre bottle of full-fat Coke to tide him over until we could reach the first MacDonalds.

We chose a white Mercedes 220 AMG with blacked out windows for the journey, as we like both comfort and (especially) privacy. We do always enjoy meeting other people on Trip Advisor though, so if you see WG66 HPX out and about give us a wave and perhaps we can have a brew at a picnic stop together.

By lunchtime, the smell in the car from my cigarettes and Fat Boy's endless processed food was quite over-powering. My bony ass was uncomfortable stuck in proper trousers for the day, but one has to dress for the activity in hand. They almost fitted, at least.

At last we arrived in Manchester. There were two lovely shops we wanted to visit there, Burns Jewellers and Mays Jewellers and Pawnbrokers. I took my watch, badged on the dial as a Rolex Submariner Date and with a warranty card numbered 3L79Y508, that I hoped to sell them.

All the booklets, swing-tag and so on, but for some reason they didn't seem to want to buy it. I'll get that twit from tz-uk who said boxes and papers prove to anyone that a watch is genuine!

Never mind! We never know what we're going to find on our travels. We have toured the UK extensively and in the last year I think I've been to Sutton Coldfield, Chesterfield, Manchester, Bradford and Sheffield inter alia. I don't know what "inter alia" means but you get the picture.

I rang ahead to Liverpool to ask one or two places if they'd buy my Rolex, while Pudding in the driver's seat tucked into a small chicken.

First stop was Wong's, at about 3.30 I suppose. I think they called someone, and then seemed no longer interested in buying my watch. Getting a bit frustrated now, I must admit....but we had some exciting destinations left. We wanted to cover them all in the day, of course, so we could get back home sharpish.

It was mid-afternoon when we stopped by Eric G. Milton Ltd in Walton, an affluent part of Liverpool --- but we had no time to enjoy the bucolic idyll.

A young chap looked at my watch with great interest and I rubbed my hands in anticipation of a strong offer.

"Your watch is unequivocally fake and I must tell you that if you try to sell it to anyone else without disclosing as much then you will probably be committing a criminal offence," the fella said, dead-pan. I feigned some surprise, gathered my things together and headed out to the car. This was becoming frustrating, but just one good experience could make my day worthwhile. I needed to regain my cool as we headed into town.

Fat-boy managed to pull the car over at the side of the main road passing in front of the famous Adelphi hotel. I couldn't help but reflect on the figures of ancient Greek "adelphoi" and then my partner, pasty and sweating in man-made fibre. How come I'm the mug who always has to go into these places? "Cos you look like a young Ben Kingsley mate, and it goes better with the image we're trying to convey."

To S.S.Milton Ltd with my watch, then. I didn't tell them of my previous failures or how many times I had been told the watch was fake, or that I'd been warned what I was doing if I offered it to anyone else without describing it as fake.

Young lady saw me, same one as I spoke to on the 'phone. "Yeah, I'd like your offer to buy my Rolex please." She had a quick look, then said one of their "watch team" would come to see it. Here we go, I thought, lovely jubbly. I saw her shine a UV light at the warranty card and smile to herself. No idea what that was about.

Had to wait about five minutes, but then two blokes entered the shop. I remember thinking that the first was strikingly handsome, reminded me a tad of Michael Barrymore but he was clearly an impressive figure. Bet the girls love him, I thought. The other fella reminded me of Feargal Sharkey.

Barrymore wasted no time and confidently asked me to join them in a private room. Aye-aye, I thought, the VIP treatment! Here we go, might even get a cup of coffee from the suckers! Everyone loves an action shot :

Feargal began to inspect the watch. I could see him looking at the delivery stickers on the sides, a nice touch even featuring the little computerised bar-coding. I managed not to smirk.

Then Barrymore, standing as if to block the doorway, piped up. I can remember the next little bit almost as if I'd recorded it :

>>>>> https://clyp.it/ooe01coe

Bother! I thought I was being clever saying that I'd bought the watch myself at Goldsmiths in Nottingham, as that was consistent with the fake warranty card which was stamped 160 and AURUM GROUP really tidily. It was the best warranty card we'd got hold of so far, that. But oooooh no, the sharp one was all over me for that. "Tell me Bill," he asked his colleague (think I heard his name correctly), "Do Goldsmiths sell fake Rolex?" Bill of course replied that they do not, and my bum began to twitch a smidge.

Frankly puzzled at the complete failure of our day out, I asked how they could tell the watch was fake. "Easily, is all you need to know. We won't say more, because we don't want to help any crooked idiots create better fakes." That was a bit of a low blow, I felt, but I could hardly complain.

Barrymore said a few more things to me and asked for my address, but I didn't reply. Part of me was trying to plan my next move, but I also didn't want to put my foot in it any further.

I'd heard him ask the staff on the shop floor to call the police. Time to go. I boxed the watch and went to leave the private room. Barrymore had his iPhone out and took some photos, which stopped me in my tracks. "I have to tell you that I intend to publish your picture and all details of what has gone on today..." "That's fine mate," I replied petulantly. Another chuffing clanger on my part. Something told me I'd come to regret saying that.

"You do realise that if you decide to leave now, while the police are on their way, it does rather reflect on what has gone on here?" demanded the clever dick.

"Just give me back my passport," I replied. Those things cost a lot of money after all, whether you get the proper ones from the UK Passport Office or the other ones from Ali in the pub car park back in Nottingham, and I'd need it if I were going to try to sell the watch anywhere else before home time.

Now I swear that Barrymore, who was holding my passport, then threw the chuffing thing through the hatch of the pawnbroking counter, to the staff side! He said he dropped it, but come on!

"What's that girls, did you say you've lost the gentleman's passport?" shouted the swine. I reckon he was guiding them, if I'm honest. Er, well, I'm not honest, but you know what I mean. If I'd done that in his position it would have been just my luck for one of my colleagues to miss the hint, pick the thing up and say "Here you go, found it!" . . . but no such luck for me.....it remained "lost."

"You can't do that, that's theft! Give me back my passport, you rotter!" I exclaimed.

"Oh no sir," contradicted Barrymore. "Theft is where one seeks permanently to deprive someone of their property. You know, like when a crook takes money from a shop? We have merely mislaid your passport and are making every effort to find it right now. I expect we'll find it in about thirty minutes, and the police will be here then of course."

Oh for flip's sake, I thought to myself. Leave the shop? Stay and wait for the police? I'll take my chances, I decided.

Leaving the shop, I'm sure I saw one of the girls take her foot off my passport, and it was just my rotten luck if they found it immediately after I left. Never mind - who has only one passport in my game, ha-ha!

I couldn't light a cigarette fast enough once out of the shop. It was a joy to stroll through the streets of the city for a little while. No need to check behind me, as no one ever follows you out of one of these places.

>>>>> https://i.imgur.com/qxHMFUrh.mp4

Towards the end of my walk I gave the signal to Fat Boy, hoping he hadn't waddled into Greggs.

As I reached the car --- crikey --- there was one of the fellows from the shop, filming us, and the other at the opposite side. Pudding isn't soft (well, not in that way); he pulled up the hood of his grey puffa jacket with red piping and pulled it tight around his face like Kenny from South Park, so you couldn't see much of his face at all. He also put the sun visor down, though the weather was somewhat inclement. Unfortunately, I think Barrymore, who was busy photographing us and the number-plate, got to see enough of Pudding to realise that he is about 16 stone or more, caucasian male of about 35-40, clean shaven and very fat in the face.

What do you know! Just our luck --- the traffic was appalling. We were stuck, motionless while this pair circled the car like some sort of righteous sharks. Barrymore banged on the driver's window and even tried to help Pudding open it --- how kind! --- but unfortunately we must have activated the central locking.

All in all something of a crap day out. Wouldn't recommend it to anyone."

5 February 2018, 08:30 AM	#1
Haywood_Milton "TRF" Member Join Date: Jun 2008 Real Name: Yes, it is ! Location: Cheshire & Mersey Watch: Military issue Sub Posts: 1,323	“Trip Advisor review: Trying to Sell Fake Rolex in North West England” . *Trying to Sell Fake Rolex, Greater M'cer & Merseyside* Reviewer : "M. J. Hay(n)es, Nottingham" on Trip Advisor since 1st September 2017 Travelling with : partner, no children Date of Visit : 1st February 2018 •••OO - Parking ••••O - Welcome ••OOO - Service •OOOO - Value for Money •••OO - Refreshments available •OOOO - Likely to return "My business partner and I left home in Nottingham mid-morning (we don't work like normal people and so can avoid the rush hour). Knowing it's a long journey and our respective weaknesses, I packed three packets of cigarettes while he threw in a 12-pack of sausage rolls, party bag of crisps and 2 litre bottle of full-fat Coke to tide him over until we could reach the first MacDonalds. We chose a white Mercedes 220 AMG with blacked out windows for the journey, as we like both comfort and (especially) privacy. We do always enjoy meeting other people on Trip Advisor though, so if you see WG66 HPX out and about give us a wave and perhaps we can have a brew at a picnic stop together. By lunchtime, the smell in the car from my cigarettes and Fat Boy's endless processed food was quite over-powering. My bony ass was uncomfortable stuck in proper trousers for the day, but one has to dress for the activity in hand. They almost fitted, at least. At last we arrived in Manchester. There were two lovely shops we wanted to visit there, Burns Jewellers and Mays Jewellers and Pawnbrokers. I took my watch, badged on the dial as a Rolex Submariner Date and with a warranty card numbered 3L79Y508, that I hoped to sell them. All the booklets, swing-tag and so on, but for some reason they didn't seem to want to buy it. I'll get that twit from tz-uk who said boxes and papers prove to anyone that a watch is genuine! Never mind! We never know what we're going to find on our travels. We have toured the UK extensively and in the last year I think I've been to Sutton Coldfield, Chesterfield, Manchester, Bradford and Sheffield inter alia. I don't know what "inter alia" means but you get the picture. I rang ahead to Liverpool to ask one or two places if they'd buy my Rolex, while Pudding in the driver's seat tucked into a small chicken. First stop was Wong's, at about 3.30 I suppose. I think they called someone, and then seemed no longer interested in buying my watch. Getting a bit frustrated now, I must admit....but we had some exciting destinations left. We wanted to cover them all in the day, of course, so we could get back home sharpish. It was mid-afternoon when we stopped by Eric G. Milton Ltd in Walton, an affluent part of Liverpool --- but we had no time to enjoy the bucolic idyll. A young chap looked at my watch with great interest and I rubbed my hands in anticipation of a strong offer. "Your watch is unequivocally fake and I must tell you that if you try to sell it to anyone else without disclosing as much then you will probably be committing a criminal offence," the fella said, dead-pan. I feigned some surprise, gathered my things together and headed out to the car. This was becoming frustrating, but just one good experience could make my day worthwhile. I needed to regain my cool as we headed into town. Fat-boy managed to pull the car over at the side of the main road passing in front of the famous Adelphi hotel. I couldn't help but reflect on the figures of ancient Greek "adelphoi" and then my partner, pasty and sweating in man-made fibre. How come I'm the mug who always has to go into these places? "Cos you look like a young Ben Kingsley mate, and it goes better with the image we're trying to convey." To S.S.Milton Ltd with my watch, then. I didn't tell them of my previous failures or how many times I had been told the watch was fake, or that I'd been warned what I was doing if I offered it to anyone else without describing it as fake. Young lady saw me, same one as I spoke to on the 'phone. "Yeah, I'd like your offer to buy my Rolex please." She had a quick look, then said one of their "watch team" would come to see it. Here we go, I thought, lovely jubbly. I saw her shine a UV light at the warranty card and smile to herself. No idea what that was about. Had to wait about five minutes, but then two blokes entered the shop. I remember thinking that the first was strikingly handsome, reminded me a tad of Michael Barrymore but he was clearly an impressive figure. Bet the girls love him, I thought. The other fella reminded me of Feargal Sharkey. Barrymore wasted no time and confidently asked me to join them in a private room. Aye-aye, I thought, the VIP treatment! Here we go, might even get a cup of coffee from the suckers! Everyone loves an action shot : Feargal began to inspect the watch. I could see him looking at the delivery stickers on the sides, a nice touch even featuring the little computerised bar-coding. I managed not to smirk. Then Barrymore, standing as if to block the doorway, piped up. I can remember the next little bit almost as if I'd recorded it : >>>>> https://clyp.it/ooe01coe Bother! I thought I was being clever saying that I'd bought the watch myself at Goldsmiths in Nottingham, as that was consistent with the fake warranty card which was stamped 160 and AURUM GROUP really tidily. It was the best warranty card we'd got hold of so far, that. But oooooh no, the sharp one was all over me for that. "Tell me Bill," he asked his colleague (think I heard his name correctly), "Do Goldsmiths sell fake Rolex?" Bill of course replied that they do not, and my bum began to twitch a smidge. Frankly puzzled at the complete failure of our day out, I asked how they could tell the watch was fake. "Easily, is all you need to know. We won't say more, because we don't want to help any crooked idiots create better fakes." That was a bit of a low blow, I felt, but I could hardly complain. Barrymore said a few more things to me and asked for my address, but I didn't reply. Part of me was trying to plan my next move, but I also didn't want to put my foot in it any further. I'd heard him ask the staff on the shop floor to call the police. Time to go. I boxed the watch and went to leave the private room. Barrymore had his iPhone out and took some photos, which stopped me in my tracks. "I have to tell you that I intend to publish your picture and all details of what has gone on today..." "That's fine mate," I replied petulantly. Another chuffing clanger on my part. Something told me I'd come to regret saying that. "You do realise that if you decide to leave now, while the police are on their way, it does rather reflect on what has gone on here?" demanded the clever dick. "Just give me back my passport," I replied. Those things cost a lot of money after all, whether you get the proper ones from the UK Passport Office or the other ones from Ali in the pub car park back in Nottingham, and I'd need it if I were going to try to sell the watch anywhere else before home time. Now I swear that Barrymore, who was holding my passport, then threw the chuffing thing through the hatch of the pawnbroking counter, to the staff side! He said he dropped it, but come on! "What's that girls, did you say you've lost the gentleman's passport?" shouted the swine. I reckon he was guiding them, if I'm honest. Er, well, I'm not honest, but you know what I mean. If I'd done that in his position it would have been just my luck for one of my colleagues to miss the hint, pick the thing up and say "Here you go, found it!" . . . but no such luck for me.....it remained "lost." "You can't do that, that's theft! Give me back my passport, you rotter!" I exclaimed. "Oh no sir," contradicted Barrymore. "Theft is where one seeks permanently to deprive someone of their property. You know, like when a crook takes money from a shop? We have merely mislaid your passport and are making every effort to find it right now. I expect we'll find it in about thirty minutes, and the police will be here then of course." Oh for flip's sake, I thought to myself. Leave the shop? Stay and wait for the police? I'll take my chances, I decided. Leaving the shop, I'm sure I saw one of the girls take her foot off my passport, and it was just my rotten luck if they found it immediately after I left. Never mind - who has only one passport in my game, ha-ha! I couldn't light a cigarette fast enough once out of the shop. It was a joy to stroll through the streets of the city for a little while. No need to check behind me, as no one ever follows you out of one of these places. >>>>> https://i.imgur.com/qxHMFUrh.mp4 Towards the end of my walk I gave the signal to Fat Boy, hoping he hadn't waddled into Greggs. As I reached the car --- crikey --- there was one of the fellows from the shop, filming us, and the other at the opposite side. Pudding isn't soft (well, not in that way); he pulled up the hood of his grey puffa jacket with red piping and pulled it tight around his face like Kenny from South Park, so you couldn't see much of his face at all. He also put the sun visor down, though the weather was somewhat inclement. Unfortunately, I think Barrymore, who was busy photographing us and the number-plate, got to see enough of Pudding to realise that he is about 16 stone or more, caucasian male of about 35-40, clean shaven and very fat in the face. What do you know! Just our luck --- the traffic was appalling. We were stuck, motionless while this pair circled the car like some sort of righteous sharks. Barrymore banged on the driver's window and even tried to help Pudding open it --- how kind! --- but unfortunately we must have activated the central locking. All in all something of a crap day out. Wouldn't recommend it to anyone." __________________ Comex:5513,5514,1665x2,16800x2,16600 Mil sub:5517x2,5513x9,5512 Submariner:6536/1x2,5508,5513 PCG u/line & double SWISS (America's Cup),5513 giltx2, 5513 m-firstx2,5513 gloss WGx2,1680 Red,1680 White Mk1 & Mk2 Sea-Dweller:1665 DRSDx3,Great Whitex3 GMT-Master:6542x2 (1 Bakelite),1675x8 (2 gilt), 16750 & SeaKing 116710LN Explorer:1016x6 (1 gilt),5500x3,14270 Blackout, Orange 1655 x4 Milgauss 1019x3 Cosmo 6263 *RNCD DSSD 116660.