Not quite thrown away, more just dropped
I was only about 4 or five and my Nan had come over to visit.
She was my favouritist relative, nice, kind always had time for me (thinking about it, would have been more fitting to mourn her loss here, but what am I gonna do). Anyway, the new fangled one pound coin had just been issued and my Nan thought the first thing she would do after getting out of the car was to treat each of her three Grandsons to a brand new, never seen before by my specky four eyes, real life ONE POUND COIN. It was soooooo shiny. It was worth a fucking whole pound. In a coin. That was like magic to a small child.
So, there I was holding this thing of wonder up to the light when, being the cack handed fuck I am, I drop it. It rolls under the car. My face is a picture of shock, it's as if Santa Claus has just raped and killed the Easter Bunny in front of me. I fall to the floor to see this golden nugget of joy rolling away.
Now, bearing in mind my Nan has just been in the Austin Maestro from hell for the last four and a half hours, I demand she moves the car so I can retrieve my pound, and she, the utterly lovely lady, obliges the small, teary eyed nugget dropper. But I can't find the fucking thing. I'm on my hands and knees searching wildly, little face collapsing with every passing second. So shitty must I have looked my Nan says she'll get me another pound coin, but my bitch whore of a mother says "No! Little Monkeyboy must learn to look after his property, he shall have no more money!"
I'm in tears, snot streaming down my little face when my brother, sweet as you like, says he's found my coin. I rush over to him and see my pound, wedged deep down a gap in the concrete drive way. I grab a stick and try to prize this thing out. No, it's not coming. No matter what I do, no matter what is used, this thing ain't budging, and I'm left outside, all on my own, staring at this thing. Two-fucking-hundred halfpenny sweets. Right there. Centimeters away.
That bastard coin stayed there, haunting me for most of the 18 years I lived in that house, until, after drunkenly recounting this story to a friend the red mist descended. I found my dads sledge hammer, and I got that fucking pound back. Unfortunately I had to pay a lot more than that to my parents when they found a fuck off big hole in the middle of their drive.




But I got my pound back.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Fri 15 Aug 2008, 17:16, 1 reply)

hahah
that gets a click from me mister.
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 15 Aug 2008, 17:20, closed)