I was caught stealing money from the charity bottle in my dads pub
my brother had got me into it, he used to get a coathanger and deftly manouvre a note up the neck of the bottle, teasing it up until i could grab it with my slender fingers.

then we would go to the till, now, during the morning hours it was deathly quiet downstairs in the pub, the till was very much like arkwrights till, he'd press 'no sale' and KAH CHING!!! the drawer would rocket open, and we'd wince at the sound, pause listening for footsteps then change the note for coins (cunning eh?) which we would then plop into the fruit machine.

i say 'we' i mean, it was mostly my older brother, after all i was only eight and i was just roped in because i had slim fingers and was naive and easily corruptable.

but one day i decided to have a go myself, all by my lonesome, boredom spurring me on, and those spinny wheels of glory bekonning me to spin them, but of course almost as soon as i had the hanger in the bottle my mum walked into the bar.. i did my best innocent face but what with having a fiver halfway up the side of the bottle it didn't do me much good.

upstairs receiving a stern talking to from my ma and pa, and in tears as they threatened me with having the police called i will always remember the image of my brother dancing across the doorway with a massive grin on his face putting his finger to his lips.

i hated him so much for that, makes me smile every time i think of it now tho, and i have never played a fruit machine since.
i still like to rob the occasional charity tin tho.
(Mortal Wombat - he's just an excitable boy, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 18:42, Reply)