$500,000
I once worked on a project in a pre-dominantly African American section of Miami, Florida, that required paying quite a large number of workers, to the tune of $100 each worker, in one single day. (That's about 5,000 people, give or take a few hundred for surprises.) As the payroll person where I'd worked, I had no problem handling accounts in the six-digit range, but I wasn't quite prepared for what upper management had planned for us at the last minute: instead of writing checks, the perfectly sane way of going about this, we would be lining up our workers at the end of the day and handing out thousands of envelopes with 100-dollar bills in each of them... In the Miami ghetto. I'm sure the idea made sense to them for some reason unbeknownst to me. To me though, the order came down like a death sentence.

Two days later I was sitting in my "secure location"... my kitchen... with half a million fresh-scented, milky-green U.S. dollars in $100 and $20 denominations in my lap. The money, when stacked, filled two milk crates, but all we could find to keep it in was beat up cardboard boxes. It was right after noon on a hot Florida day, and my boss had just brought it over from the bank; when it came through the door, it felt like some otherworldly presence had just entered, like your favorite band coming onstage, or the Pope Himself coming to speak to you. But with it came a very ominous feeling of danger.

I was by myself in my apartment, save for the three corn-rowed, humongous security guards that surrounded me, whom we'd hired from a less-than-reputable agency. The night before, under their watch, 8 fifteen-passenger vans we'd rented for the project were stolen. Well, 9 technically, if you count the one that was totalled. (The thieves used it to punch a hole in the cement wall of the lot where they were being kept, so that they could drive off with the other 8.)

We should have gone with off-duty cops, I kept thinking. These guys were salivating over the mountains of cash on my kitchen table. I laughed to myself upon seeing one of them literally licking his lips with his eyes locked on the cash... but not a real laugh. After what felt like days my boss came by and, after noticing the same thing, sent them elsewhere. He did bring my all 120 pounds of his wife though, to help me count the cash, and then left to take care of other things. But now, my apartment was no longer a secret. Fortunately, the state of Florida allows for the purchase and sale of machine guns, so I spent the rest of the day stuffing wads of cash into envelopes with my roommate's Chinese AK-47 pointed at the front door.

After it was all counted and stuffed, it was picked up for delivery to several different sites around the South Florida. I wasn't there to see it, but I was told that the carefully-formed lines of workers, upon realizing that payment was in cash, disintegrated quickly into an impatient mob, as predicted. There were gunshots and muggings and co-workers running for their lives. Don't you love decisions from the top?

Later that night though, there was still tens of thousands of dollars left over, from workers that never showed up. My girlfriend and I re-enacted Indecent Proposal.
(MR KEARNS, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 7:10, Reply)

More like e-cash ...
But I won some £3,000 at online slots about a year ago. Some of the more dodgy gambling operations routinely try to screw you of your winnings so I'm always a bit paranoid while waiting for the actual money to materialize. It went fine, though.

(On a side note, a few years back another place tried to screw me of a £500 winning by delaying payout infinitely. So I write a letter to the software provider, politely namedropping a few well known gambling discussion boards and hinting that being associated with crooks is probably bad for business. Money appeared next day. Ahh.. blackmail).

Apologies for being lengthy and missing the point :)
(spinoza, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 5:35, Reply)

Buying a bike
Fairly boring story unless you're into bikes. Does include pictures of the cash though :)

So I've been on the lookout for a BMW 1150 GS Adventure for the past 4 months. This is for mine and Lana's 3-4 month round Oz trip kicking off in August.

Up comes a 2003 model, full aluminium panniers (including topbox), only done 11k, sports exhaust. Located down in Melbourne. I give him a call. Bike's got a ding in the tank (which I don't care about). Have a bit more of a chat, he got it at 10k on the clock, he's added 1.5k in the past 2 years. He also owns a GSX. I've chatted to him on Friday. And he's asking 17k for it. Bingo, for the km's done and with the full luggage system, bargain.

So I decide to head down to Melbourne on saturday, check it out, pay him and ride her back if it's sweet. Go to the bank to get out the cash.

For a joint account it's fairly easy to take out a large sum of cash without the other person's permission.

Want to see what 17k looks like?

www.theedgeofmadness.com/pics/money1.jpg

www.theedgeofmadness.com/pics/lana_money.jpg

On a 6:30 am flight. Meaning we had to get up at 5:15am. Meaning I went to bed early.

I've got the cash stuffed into my camelbak. I'm fairly concerned if the airport security will raise an eyebrow when it comes up on the scanner.

Couldn't sleep as Lana was snoring and there was a party on upstairs. I went to sleep at 2am. Okay, now I've got 3 hours sleep with a 11 hour bike ride back to Sydney in front of me.

Security didn't blink an eyelid at the cash. They were more concerned with my armoured gloves (my riding gloves have kevlar reinforced knuckles). But since I was in full riding gear, decided I wasn't at terrorist.

Get to Melbourne early, cruise over to the guys place. He was celebrating his one year anniversary the night before, so drunk as a skunk and passed out on the couch :)

Check out the bike, take her for a test ride. She's fine. More powerful than the monster, abs brakes fantastic. I tried to lock her up at 80km slamming on the anchors, stopped faster than I ever could have down without it.

Go back. Tell him his got a deal. We then have to dick around a bit to get the topbox as it's in his gf's boot. End up leaving his place at 11 am.

Somewhere in my trip I snapped the mouth piece off my camelback, so unfortunately haven't got that to use.

Thankfully before I left Sydney, I zipped the gortex liner into my leathers. But stupid me brought my summer gloves, and didn't bring a balaclava. Nor did I pack my thermals.

Got lost getting out of Melbourne, and wasted an hour and a half trying to find the Hume highway.

Once on the highway, it was a fairly good cruise. I have to put risers on the GS to sort out my bad shoulder, but apart from that it's sweet.

The thing is a beast though. Like riding a small car. I am slightly worried about if I can pick her up if I drop her, which will happen at some point. That's my only main concern with her. Two-up with luggage, a 600 is going to struggle. Though I am fairly certain if me and Lana go ahead with the RTW, I will get a 600cc instead. The roads in OZ will be fine for this one, and with an EPIRB and sat phone, I'm not too worried about getting stuck in Australia, if we can't pick her up.

Back to the trip. Making good time, stop for lunch. Oh my god, I don't realise how cold it is till I get inside. Got the shakes bad. My hands aren't too bad, the GS has heated hand grips.

Get back on and away we go. Hume is a boring highway, so no highlights here. I do have a cocktail party to get too, but no chance, my ETA back to Sydney is around 11pm.

6:00 pm. Pull over to refuel. Decide to use the centre stand. Mistake. Firstly I overfill the tank. No biggy, I just wash the spilled fuel off the tank. Then I check the oil. Burn my finger on the engine. Now I take her off the centre stand for the first time. Bang, over she falls to the right away from me. Wedged right up to the fuel pump.

I try to lift her up. It's awkward as I can't get a good grip. No luck. Another bloke comes to help me. No luck. One more guy and up she comes with a struggle.

One of the panniers has come off, and I can't seem to lock it back in. No biggy, it's locked in enough to stay on.

Now I go to start her up. The ABS brake failure light comes on...and stays on. Frig. I check the cables. No damage. I do a few parking lot laps and slam on the anchors, everything seems fine. I'm about 500km's out of Sydney at this time. I decide to go on. It's starting to get dark.

Now my trick with highway riding at night is to slot in behind a truck, and stick with them. The truck's light show the road ahead, and more importantly the truck easily clears the road of wildlife.

Granted you don't go as fast, but with my lights on full beam, plus the floods, my max speed is 80km/h. That is with what I see ahead, I can react in time.

I avoided a possum when I wasn't following another vehicle, so yep, my gap/speed was right.

Pull over around 7, give Lana a call to let her know I'm still alive, and my eta back to Sydney is around midnight. This time when I start her up, the ABS warning light turns off. Water must have got in somewhere when I washed the tank.

Ride on for a few more hours. See the golden arches, so pull over to warm up and get some dinner. Around 9 now.

When I get inside, I can't stop shivering. It is frigging cold. The temptation to pull into a motel room is overwhelming. But I'm determined to finish this trip.

Gear up and ride off.

Now it's starting to get damn cold. I go past an RTA inspection station. It's frigging 4 degrees. I'm freezing. My teeth are chattering, and I've got the shakes. I'm shaking bad enough that the bike is wobbling within the lane.

Bike needs fuel. I also know if I pull over, I'm going to have to really persuade myself to get going. I pull over to refuel. I really persuade myself to get going.

Finally around 11 I can see the lights of Sydney up in the distance. Still got a 100 odd klicks to go.

Have to pay 2 tolls, which I hadn't really prepared for. Took about 10 minutes each time. Stop the bike, remove glove, get off, get wallet, pay, put glove on, get back on, go.

Finally get home. Lana's been waiting up for me, so runs down to see me. I can't stop shaking as it's so frigging cold. She likes the bike.

I've whacked on a little over 1,000 km's on the clock since I got her 12 hours earlier, she's now at just over 12,000 kms.

Go upstairs, warm up with a shower and some whiskey. Go to bed, sleep. Wasn't tired till my body hit the couch. Woke up feeling good, little sore, but no-where near as bad as if I would have done that trip on the Spada/Monster.

And now for some pics. Yes, there are 3 bikes in my garage at the moment. If I had taken the pics earlier, there would have been 4 :)

www.theedgeofmadness.com/pics/garage1.jpg

www.theedgeofmadness.com/pics/garage2.jpg
(Kaer, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 4:23, Reply)

When I was in America...
This was about twenty-odd years ago. I was in Tennessee, about 15 miles from the nearest town, hiking along the road. I saw a guy sitting by the side of the road, dressed in black and carrying a guitar. I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he'd been walking into town, when he stumbled and twisted his ankle. Since I was heading into town anyway, I told him I'd give him a piggyback. So, he hopped up onto my shoulders and I started walking. While he was perched up there, he started playing his guitar and singing. Now I'm not really into country, but this guy was pretty good - he had a nice deep voice - and it helped pass the time. So, a few hours later, we eventually got to town, and I dropped him off at the doctor's. We shook hands, and he offered to reward me for my trouble. I said no, but he insisted, and pulled out a wad of dollars from his backpack and gave it to me. There must have been about thirty grand there. Turns out he was actually some famous singer!

So, that's the story of how some singer gave me the most cash I've ever carried.

Never did find out the bloke's name, though.


Pop goes the weasel (actually a cherry)
(oball needs Satan more than he needs me, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 4:17, Reply)

$150 million
I once drove a truck containing $150 million!

...I was working for a printer and it was a delivery of fake money for a board game company, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!
(Brundy, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 3:35, Reply)

Most money carried...
I carried $17000 (Australian) in my backpack on a train after doing a real dodgey one-off pill deal. Thought I was going to be mugged/arrested/murdered every minute of that ride..Paranoia is a horrible thing. Shit thing is most of that money wasnt even mine.
(semtec, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 3:26, Reply)

A hell of a lot of money...
Lots of money here,
Firstly, I supervise the bar I work at so regularly wander round with £5,000 cash, but not even a patch on what I had once.

Work experience at a bank, got told to count out this big pile of notes...
Got to £50,000, thought "yeah, fair bit here"
Got to £250,000, though "hmm, still a bit to go"
Got to just over half a million and thought "Bugger me, I'm just turned 15 and been trusted with all this money, what the fuck happens if a robber comes in?!"

Lots of money in the trolleys I had to move round, sorting out gold and millions of pounds, often wondered how long it would take to discover £10,000 had disappeared, never got round to testing it though.
(triley, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 2:49, Reply)

Fashionable
Fuck cash. I carry credit cards.


Wankers.
(ratthingbazzterd, Fri 23 Jun 2006, 0:26, Reply)

Well there's a couple of occasions
The first was when working for a Bingo hall. I was asked to carry some of the takings to the bank. This bank, however, was across town and the takings were in the form of copper, silver and a large wad of notes to the tune of well over £15 000. This wouldn't have been so bad if the bags holding them weren't see-through.. Waddling across town with this baggage proved to attract the attention of the local tonwspeople, chavs. I have no idea how, but I made it to the other side of town without any trouble at all.

The second occasion was when transferring money from one bank to the another. I was informed that this could not be done electronically so was forced to creep from one bank to another, again across town, with £2000 in my pockets, sweating it the whole way.
Luckily I didn;t have any trouble then either.
(Spongeblunt Indeed sire., Fri 23 Jun 2006, 0:09, Reply)

I frequently go from my house (a pub) ....
with a grey rucksack on usually covered in "patches and the likes" to the bank to change it up and pay it in etc. for the pub.

So the most I believe was something like 100k which looks really odd to the person at the counter as I am blatently a 17 year old scruffy "goffik" in Gravesend!

Whats with the "what were you carrying and did anyone steal it" vibe over the past few QOTW's?

*EDIT*
The 100k wasn't like the pub's earnings we had just sold another pub so.....just thought I would explain the stupid amount!
( Supersam11 Can I go on the slides please?, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:57, Reply)

The statement game?
Anyone ever played the statement game at cash machines?

They usually have the wee box for you to dump read statements in, which always seem clogged and have lot of statements jammed at the top. Take one each and the person with the most cash in their chosen statement wins

My best win was with something like £40k, usually a collection of studenty accounts though with £8.45 or whatever left in them

David
(442, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:40, Reply)

Same as Andy_R - real money monopoly with Gimpo and Mr Green
www.b3ta.com/questions/themostcashevercarried/post57369/

At first I thought maybe it was the same game, but mine was at a screening in Derby in Nov '97.

I managed to win and in the background the film of them burning the money was now being played backwards, so they were plucking money as it wafted up out of the fire.

It was much nicer that way.
( Professor Fnord Regius Professor of B3ta Chronology, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:28, Reply)

lets see
Buy First white goods 600 in 20's
Buying a car for the fiance 5000 in my back pack
Her going mental, leaving me and then demanding half the house equity(even though I paid for 75% of it) 15,000 (okay in a cheque)

The ability to walk around my own damn house naked spanking my monkey/PS2 when ever I damn well choses - Priceless

Messy breakups,love'em.

Lenght, Girth I recked that chick!
(timberwolf0122 is turkey volume guessing man! Guessing the volumes in terms of turkeys since, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:20, Reply)

I have a few stories.
The most cash I've ever carried that belonged to me was about $1200.00. Back when I was moving away to university, my bank was giving me the gears about doing a simple transfer without charging me a fee. It turned out to cost me nothing to cash out my account, so I went that route, and asked, on a whim, for thousand dollar bills. I got my sister to hold all but one, which I put in my wallet and carried with my spending money for about a week until I opened a new account in the new city. And yes, the entire week was a drunken idiotfest, so I don't know how I didn't lose my savings.

Other than that, I've made bank deposits for various jobs (usually under $10 000.00), but I also used to work for an ASO which had a huge annual fundraiser which always brought in bucketloads of cash, typically $6 000.00 - $15 000.00. That I only had to help carry, and only as far as to the security company's cart, but it's a novel experience to see and count thousands of dollars in small bills all at once.
( postbear has metal knees, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:13, Reply)

i used to work in a casino as a manager
I had to take large amounts of money to the bank. The most being approx £20k.
nothing funny with this just severe paranoia walking to the bank with that amount of money on you.
( Plomien is Polish for flame, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:07, Reply)

Back in my student days,
I was a part-time waiter in a bar/café in Edinburgh. It was quite a nice place, but was unfortunately located right next to the local drop-in centre. Which meant that at least once a week you’d have undesirable types coming in to beg money, try and steal stuff, or generally be a nuisance, and as one of the few blokes who worked there I’d always be the one who’d have to deal with it. Not fun.

One happy afternoon, I was serving some of the outside tables when I heard a shout, in broad Scots, of “There he is! That’s the bastard that sent me down for 10 years!” I looked up, and there was a very strange, red-faced hobo, whom I’d never seen before in my life, bearing down on me with rage in his eyes. Crap. He grabbed me by the throat, and said, “Got ye, ya bastard!”, and seemed to be about to hit me. The situation wasn’t exactly helped by a fellow waiter saying, dead-pan, “Silencer, I think you’re the guy who put him away for 10 years.” Yeah, thanks for that.

Anyway, I managed to get away and went inside, and we called the police. They never came, and this insane guy went on a bit of a rampage up and down the street for the rest of the day, attacking passing cars, throwing stuff around etc. All a bit odd.

The next day the manager called me into the office and asked me to go and take some takings to the bank, which I’d never done before. I remember it was about 2500 quid, which, sadly, is still the most money I’ve ever held in my life. The bank was only 5 minutes away, but no sooner had I rounded the corner and was out of sight of the restaurant when I saw the same guy from the day before coming straight towards me. I couldn’t run (2 and a half grand, partly in change, is pretty heavy), so I steeled myself for a brave death defending the restaurant’s precious money, when… he walked straight past me. Didn’t so much as batter an eyelid in recognition, and I never saw him again.

I like to imagine that the police eventually caught up with him and locked him up for 10 years, making him not insane but just extremely prescient.
(silencer, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:04, Reply)

Not much cash here really...
The most I have personally carried was £350 when I was buying one of my guitars. I bought it secondhand so had to carry the cash about with me as I was meeting the guy after uni, hidden safely in my bag with me being rather watchful of it that day.

The most I have ever held in person was somewhere in the region of £5000, my dad was the treasurer for a fairly big week long event, and had to collect all the cash at the end of each day, hence the £5000, probably not that much compared to some stories here, but still a fair amount.

Generally nowadays credit cards do the job of carrying large sums of money about in a safer fashion than as a large wad (of easily nicked) banknotes

Someday I do intend buying somethign fairly expensive in cash, purely so I can try and reenact the bit from Waynes world when he goes to buy the guitar.

David
(442, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:02, Reply)

About £8k
I was dragged to town with my mum to withdraw the money to pay for our extension work being done to the house. For some reason they wanted to be paid in cash so we had to withdraw the best part of £8,000.
After getting the wad of notes my mum turns and says "i dont have any pockets...and it wont fit into my handbag so erm...put as much as you can in your jeans"
So i had to walk from the bank back to the carpark about 2 miles away with bulging pockets expecting to be mugged any moment, as my mother, oblivious to the fact i could be robbed decided to window shop all the way back to the car...
(Haggard, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 23:02, Reply)

Cheap at twice the price
When I was 16, I was on a YTS scheme at an electrical store in a bit of a rough area. One day my boss handed me a safety deposit bag and told me to go to the Lloyds branch about 20 minutes away and deposit it. I earned £28 a week at the time. So being the dutiful employee trying to earn his 72 pence an hour, I put on my coat, shoved the bag into a carrier bag, and set off. Took me about an hour in total. I get back, and he asks if I deposited it okay, to which I said yes.

"Good." He said. "I really didn't want to walk the streets with £38,000 myself!"

Yep, for 72 pence an hour, my boss sent me on a 20 minute trek to the bank, through one of the most crime ridden areas where I lived, carrying £38,000 in cash...

Thanks Henry!
(Bonedwarf is the size of a lemon, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:55, Reply)

on my way to exeter
on occassion ive walked with a few hundred quid between banks, to keep my balances ticking over. and last week i took £1350 in cash to exeter on the train, in a small brown envelope stashed in my daysack, but at least i didnt have to worry about taking the money back home with me. on the down side, the parachute system i bought weighed a bit more, and my wallet was feeling kinda worn out. back to work i go ... :P

i know this isnt really about a lot of money, but im still a student so it's the closest to rich im going to get for a while.
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:53, Reply)

Not that much cash, but an interesting story
I first started riding a bike a year or so ago (I'm 18 - a bit late I know, but never mind). It was a rickety old affair - a bright yellow Apollo I bought for £30 off a mate. Anyhow, I was getting into my cycling and so I decided that the time had come for a better rig - something with a bit of suspension, maybe some nice brakes. So I began to save up. A couple of months later (Christmas helped me along nicely) I had a nice bit of cash stashed safely in the inconspicous little pot above my computer, and the time had come to pay it in. The bank isn't too far to walk from my house, but by this time I'd become addicted to cycling - and besides, I figured I'd be able to outpace any would-be assailants along the way.
So as I set off, I heard a rhythmic "bumping" sound. I didn't think much of it, as my old bike quite frequently made strange noises. Trouble was, as I headed down the hill towards the bank, it got louder. Soon, I started to actually feel it through the pedals - I risked a glance over my shoulder to see what was up but didn't notice anything strange.

And then the tyre exploded. Turned out it had been bulging out rubbing against the brake - both the tyre and the brake pad had completely worn away, leaving a convenient bit of wheel metal to get tangled with the remainder of the break block and totally lock everything up. I went into a hefty skid, and came to a halt after about 10 metres. I had to abandon the bike (I think I somehow locked it to a tree) and walk the rest of the way... fortunately, I made it to the bank without getting mugged.

The dead Apollo's still in my back garden. I'm waiting to see how vibrant a shade of orange its chain will turn.

The bike I bought with the money got stolen from its shed. I'm now riding a £500 beauty I got on insurance.

I apologise for nothing!
( Albert the Mildly Deranged purveyors of nothing much since a year or two ago, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:45, Reply)

A hard bit of negotiation.....
It was 45,000 euros - and the bank was a bit funny with me when I went to pick it up. Jesus it was my own money but of course if you take out more than a fiver these days then they assume you must be handing it over to bearded terrorists in return for a dodgy IOU promising everlasting virgins sans Buhkas as pie in the sky when you die. The forms, oh my god, the forms... I still have nightmares of the endless paper trail.

Anyhow - the cash was to buy a book and when I got to meet the owner in Paris it became clear that some odds and sods from it were missing (it was by Marcel Duchamp which is a clue why it was so expensive). Making it clear there was no way the money was appearing from beside my bollocks (where I had hidden it) without the missing bits of the book reappearing, he first of all tried to tell me that the book was complete and fine and it was all my fault for not knowing what I was doing. Yeah. Sure. Twenty minutes later after a little discussion le batard dropped his price from 45K to 7K with pretty much no protest and the deal was done. Lying knowing swine, he could have at least made some sport of it given he was fully aware of the truth all along.

On my return I tried to put the unspent balance back in my bank. 38,000 euros being the second largest amount I've ever carried anywhere. Guess? Yep more forms and explanations of where it came from.


And yes, it's a real company my addy's taken from, and I want to work for them:
(beaverwastemanagement a real company. I want to work for them!, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:39, Reply)

It wasn't cash but.......
I bought a Playstation 2 way back when they were still £250/£300 quid. The shop was on the other side of the town from where i lived.

I was so paranoid of being mugged, i walked the perimeter of the town on country roads to get home.


VFM
(Viscous Fridge Magnet Used To Be A Cha-Cha, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:35, Reply)

charity begins at home...
I used to be the treasurer for my old university RAG appeal. You've not seen 'a lot of money' until you've had over ten grand in small change (we're talking 1p's and 2p's here) on your bedroom floor - I had to count and bag that sh*t. And then carry it in buckets to NatWest. Often in fancy dress. I've heard of people performing this operation dressed as bank robbers - causes a lot of hilarity / funny looks.

Funnily enough, nobody ever seems to consider mugging you when you've got a very visible bucket of money. Weird huh?

/Apologies for girth.
( flapdoodle toast FTW!, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:35, Reply)

I had £600 in me pocket once...
I was buying a new guitar (18th birthday present form me parents :D ) and had set my heart on the gorgeous JS100 if there's anyone who cares...
Anyway, I got my mate to give me a lift there, it wasn't far from home, but the shop was in the centre of Bournemouth's chavviest place - Boscombe. Luckily for me said mate is around 6ft and BIG with it... so I was quite happy I wasn't gonna get mugged... The back to his car was slightly worseas it was obvious I had a guitar with me... but meh, all happy in the end... :)
(errrggghhhh should be doing something else, but what was it?!, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:29, Reply)

in mass...
23rd dec, i did the christmas/new years change run [ie. the change to last us from 23rd dec all the way to the first bank working day of the next year] at a shop selling items inspired by times from the past. i always used to offer to do the change run when i was working because it was a five min walk to the bank, followed by ten mins of queuing and being served, and another five mins of walking = paid cig break and destressing time, much needed at christmas. score.

i take the change order request and a wodge of cash [without bothering to read/count it, assuming it's a daily one for about £75] and some carrier bags [unmarked? pah], wander down to the bank complete with marlboro reds [it had been payday the day before and these were the first straights i'd smoked in over six weeks], wander in, queue, get served and watch as the cashier counts out several bags of 20 £1 coins. and several more. and then some. so i glance thru the screen and read the change order. for £600, all in pounds. good job i picked up two medium carriers, eh?

walk back down exeter high street carrying £300 in each bag, and another fag balancing on my lip was an experience i don't imagine i'll be experiencing again.

not the largest amount of money in value, but possibly a contender for largest amount by mass?

this story was brought to you by past times, advertising their super-strong bags
(bakerloo.boy, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:08, Reply)

Obvious really
Me and a few of my mates pulled up at the side of a warehouse just south of London. As we walked into the building, strangely, everyone disappeared. I wasn't quite sure what the building was at first, but it was chock full of cash - about £50 million all things told.

Now, with that amount of cash you need to disperse it widely. Problem is, some other people have found the occasional bit of cash, but we've still got most of it. Which is nice. I'm quite happy living in the south of France now.

Pip pip!
( shadyron, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 22:08, Reply)

Not a lot of cash
50p actually. For entry to a car boot sale.
I pulled it out of my pocket, with a pube, I noticed it as I placed it in the attendants hand. I quickly blew it away (to his relief).
I laughed.
(freddybloggspooh Smash!, Thu 22 Jun 2006, 21:35, Reply)