My father was a self-employed contractor who basically sold his technical draughtsman services to petrochem companies to help design their new oil rig or somesuch. IIRC his 'company' consisting of himself and his 'secretary' my mother was enough to get in one of these bulk business places, I think it was called Macro. I was very young...I remember the toilets were only accessible from outside the gate so when I whinged about needing the loo once we were inside my exasperated mum had to take me all the way out and back in again. I remember it being like Ikea's warehouse floor, only without the meatballs...and the only thing I remember buying was a huge crate of juice cartons for my school lunches

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