Well...
I find it difficult to pay for something that I know I could either do myself, or barter for. I am a tightwad, I will take delight in pinching loo rolls, anything and everything from hotel rooms - infact, if I am unlikely to be jailed for it, and it serves an honest purpose regarding my bum then I will have it away.

I think I am quite typical in the posts previous to me... However, when I have got a few quid, I find no problem in tipping more than I should - often to regret it later, but I like that little smile a tenner can bring.

Anyway, many moons ago I was living in the delightful suburbs of North London. Amidst the gun toting, machetey wielding chicken bar owners was a lovely bright orange family owned store known locally as Sainsbury's.

I had the honour of a family visit one weekend where, with nothing a much to do, I decided a full filling afternoon - and use of a car was not complete without a jumbo shop.

I'd made it clear that I didn't need any help financially, but the use of the car rather than bus with many bags would be help it's self.

At the meat counter was where it happend. Stood with my mother in line waiting our turn I spotted some lovely looking angus steak - and I wanted some. This is where many years of embarasment turned the tables, and my mother learnt how tight I had become.

I selected the joint, requested a slice just over an inch thick, the chap weighed said half a cow - but before he could wrap, I requested he trim off the fat... and re-weigh, a saving of 70 odd pence, thank you very much... but of course, I like the fat... so I asked him to include it in the parcel... my mother actually said outloud I couldn't do such a thing...

poppy cock.

Twas lovely.
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Fri 24 Oct 2008, 14:22, Reply)