I am an extremely generous person. Though I don’t like to go on about it. So for now, we’ll just say how generous I am and move on. What this means is that from time to time people will owe me a few pounds here and there, either for a meal I’ve paid for, or a round of drinks I may have bought for them, just a few little things. But this is enough about me and how generous I am.
I don’t mind this situation, and what’s a few pounds between friends anyway? It’s not like I’m keeping a close track of it, or mentioning it on a website that is read by literally tens of people. What I do mind however, is when people try and pay you back in the most inconvenient manner possible.
“Angry, this is the fiver I owe you” said friend who shall be known, entirely randomly, as Darth Helmet from here on in.
I had paid the bill for lunch and he owed me five pounds for his food. I held out my hand whilst talking to someone else expecting him to place a crispy note in my palm. It didn’t arrive.
“That’s one, two, two-fifty, two-seventy, two-ninety, three-ten..”, he began whilst counting the change into my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you your fiver back, look, three-thirty, three-fifty, don’t make me lose count.”
“Is this a joke? I don’t want five pounds worth of shrapnel, either in weight or in value.”
“A fiver is a fiver Angry don’t be so ungrateful, four-ten, four-thirty…”
The sheer volume of the change began to weigh me down as I anticipated walking round with the equivalent of a bag of sugar in my pocket for the rest of the day. It’s one of those laws of the Universe that pockets of change only get bigger as the day progresses, never smaller. It is quite possible I would end the day carrying the equivalent of a small child around in my pockets. I begin to consider the use of a Papoose to assist with my new-found shrapnel collection when he finally finishes counting.
“Four-ninety, five-ten. There we go, you can keep the extra ten pee”, he concluded in a way that conveyed his belief he was being generous.
“Ten pee? What can I do with ten pee!”
“You could invest it, and in ten years time it might buy you a beer, on me of course.”
I tried to explain that it would cost me about a tenner to invest that ten pence, but the point was lost on him as he felt his 2% tip for me was more than generous.
So I changed it to ten pennies at the bar and gave it back to him. Invest that you twat.
{ 20 comments… read them below or add one }
Either I’m phsycic or did you post this before?
Now there must be a good revenge on this. Maybe buy him a pint next time its your round and serve it up in 20 shot glasses…
HEH HEH!!!
I’ve done that before! In the 80′s saved up lots of 1/2p coins to pay my mate 99p. He wasnt impressed.
RD– a man after my own heart. The doughnut shop opposite school used to put its pices up in 1/2p increments back in the 70′s. This got annoying, so I inveigled all my friends and realtions to save me their 1/2p coins and for a month solid purchase one doughnut a day paid for entirely in tiny little coins. Amazing how quickly the price stabilized
I used to like collecting Scottish pound notes and paying taxi drivers in London entirely with them. Snigger.
Maybe your pal’s in training for his pension — OAPs like paying in their life’s savings at the post office with sackloads of pennies, usually at lunchtime or just before closing.
Behind them is generally a long line of working people who just need a stamp or something and can’t go to the post office at any other time because of their job, whereas the OAP has ALL PIGGING DAY, dammit!
I’ve got something with post offices, haven’t I?
BoT – if you use one of those feed-reader thingymewhatsits you may have seen it appear ever so briefly a couple of days ago, I put it up by mistake (hoping noone would notice)… but the shot glass idea I really like!
RD – You would get on well with Darth Helmet
Dr J – I’m surprised a career in the Treasury didn’t beckon with an aptitude for fiscal controls like that.
Ken – I don’t like Post Offices either!
Sadly I failed the entrance exam for Treasurering. They said my acconuting wasn’t sufficiently creative.
angry, take care of the pennies, and the pounds take care of themselves.
Give him change in Euros equivalent next time and say ‘It’ll be good for your holiday’
mighty wright – but then pennies should be converted to pounds, and pounds into notes. Not the other way round!
greavsie – I have some Turkish Lira I need to dispose of actually…
unless you go to sainsburys and use one of those machines where you empty all of your “shrapnel” in to it , they take a cut for “charity” and you get some nice new notes back in return! thats the way ahead for you angry.
One hundred years before I reached my current staggeringly high position of responsibility I was a “till tart” at Sainsburys.
There used to be a tramp that paid in pennies for his Sainbury own label extra strength lager. One day, when queuing at my checkout he announced “b’ Jesus, I’ve feckin shit meself”. And sure enough he had let the brown slider out of his no doubt crusty undewear and it ran down his leg.
The stench was unbearable. I quickly leapt up and ran into town to collect stray supermarket trolleys, which was my least favourite job, but a lot better than clearing up sticky brown tramp poo from the supermarket floor.
mighty wright – why not do that before you pay someone back then?
Dr Clip – it’s any excuse for a poo story with you isn’t it! But that is a good one…
I always end up with pocketsful of shrapnel after a night out. I then spend the next day or two annoying till staff and people queuing behind me by getting rid of it ever so carefully.
have you noticed, Angry dear, that you have lost all your female commenters (I’m remarking on that, not on the post, so it doesn’t count). This is obviously a bloke thing and we women are completely bemused by it.
Keep the shrapnel in your fist as you twat him one. Then advise him paper doesn’t hurt so much. Extreme but effective.
He’s a twat. Write him off. x, ellie
Oh, MrAngry – this friend of yours – I like his attitude.
Could have been me.
Isn’t it just great to be a pain in the neck sometimes?
When i was a student working in threshers you’d get all the alki’s in and without a doubt theyd either pay for one can retailing at 99p with a 20 pound note when i had hardly any change or they’d buy tons and pay with a sack full of coins. I’ve had old blokes come in with shopping bags full of pennies, so i then have to stand there for a good 20 minutes counting the fuckers out. After a while i stopped bothering, so what if we were a tenner down at the end of the day?
US – so you’re one of them are you?…
z – women don’t do pockets, so they don’t do change.
FD – now THAT is the best advice yet!
ellie – indeed
amadea – er, no, it’s not!
marycub – you were the easy touch then…
it *was* money after all. Besides i can’t refuse the tramps their only raison d’etre!