» The most cash I've ever carried

Snotty bugger
About ten years ago, when I'd just moved to Newcastle, I got my first wages from my new job. Since I didn't have a credit card or cheque book yet I got the whole wad in cash, about 1100 quid. I'd also discovered partying and needed a new wardrobe - and there were plenty of nice shops to blow it in. First on my list of purchases was a nice suit so I headed off to a snappy looking shop in the centre where the shop-assistant ('cos that what he was really, no matter what he thought) was an extremely well (if conservatively) dressed man, about 45 or so. They had the usual Boss, Armani and whatever so I started browsing.

I should mention that I had just got out of work and had been working on a new machine, so I was in rather dusty jeans and a t-shirt. Didn't bother me - I was there to get something better, right?

No chance! He took one look at me and said, and I'll never forget this, "The items in the back may be of a more suitable tariff, sir."
I had a moment of surprise, followed by one of disgust. How dare he! Luckily these were both eclipsed by the sheer joy of pulling out a fat wad of notes and doing a Pretty Woman. Lovely.

Don't recall having a witty one liner though - too annoyed, I reckon. I'm pretty sure I thought of plenty thirty seconds later but that's usually the way.
(Mon 26th Jun 2006, 22:46, More)

» Debt pron

Stupid stupid stupid
I was down on cash for ages - owed money left right and centre, and finally got a job. I got the boss to pay me cash for the first months wages in cash as I didn't want the bank getting first dibs on it. First thing I did before planning how to get my life sorted out was to have a joint and relax.

One thing led to another and I ended up thinking that the best way forward was to buy a lot of hash and sell it on. Lo and behold, someone offered to do just that for me - 600 quid and I could easily double it in a few days. "Genius!", said I, "What are we waiting for?"

"You'd better wait here, mate", he said, "They won't recognise you and it could go pear shaped."

I took his wise words to heart and settled back to wait.

An hour later I was getting worried.

Five hours later I was REALLY getting worried.

Five days later I had to get the folks to send me the fare home. I ended up leaving everything I couldn't carry behind and fleeing the country before I starved to death. Cunt.
(Tue 28th Nov 2006, 18:47, More)

» Crap meals out

Game as you can get
We had a Game Trio on the menu a few years back in the pub - three game birds and the usual side orders; I think pigeon, partridge and summat else. Anyway - you could tell they were proper game birds by the amount of lead shot in the bloody things. Two cracked teeth and a lot of customers who weren't sure whether to make a joke or a formal complaint :)
(Wed 3rd May 2006, 23:59, More)

» Mugged

The Doctor is a bastard
I was mugged a few times as a kid but the one that sticks in my mind (and gave me nightmares for years) is this one:
Walking home from school one afternoon I took my usual shortcut across some waste ground. I was 12 and about 4 foot 6 back then. Out from behind a wall (he'd been hiding) pops this huge guy wearing a surgeon's mask! I later found out he was eighteen.
"Gimme your money" he said, and kicked me in the balls! I crumpled to the ground and yelled for help while he told me to shut up and checked my pockets, nicking the 17p I'd saved by walking home.
What a cunt!
(Thu 15th Jun 2006, 22:46, More)

» Fancy Dress

Some kind of spiderman, like?
Every few Saturday nights at Rockshots in Newcastle, about 8 years ago, there was a theme night. We'd check the flyers, hit the second hand stores and produce something ridiculous but fun. The tackier the better, the camper the better, the cheaper the better - once the drugs kicked in everyone looked brilliant anyway :)
Halloween and I tried to wrap myself in bandages - you'd think ten metres would be enough but it barely did me arms and legs! Ended up putting on a white dressing down and doing me arms, half me face, and me legs from the knees down! That's about the level of quality of fancy dress we're talking here, okay? Imagine how well safety pins kept it together after an hours dancing and you'll realise how glad I was I'd a dressing gown with me!
So one week, and I can't for the life of me remember what the theme could have been, I had to go as a cat. Couldn't afford a catsuit - we were all on the dole! I ended up with black tights and a black bodysuit, black socks on my arms and hands, a cat "eye-and-ear mask" cut from a cornflakes packet and painted black, black shoepolish on my nose in a triangle, and the piece de resistance, a tail! Or rather a long black sock stuffed with rolled up newspaper and safety pinned to my arse! Fantastic! Gimme a pill, please! Let's go party!
We arrive together and I realise I've forgotten me cash! Fuck! There was only one thing for it - time was short and it was cold out! I flagged down a taxi and hopped in, carefully putting my tail on my lap as I did so.
The taxi driver, to his credit, didn't yell in his best Geordie accent that I get my freakish self the fuck out his car. He just said, "What are ye then? Some kind of spider man, like?" as the pill started to come on and I gigglingly tried to explain that I was a cat, man.
(Wed 18th Jan 2006, 14:49, More)