Skip to main content

Dodgy cashpoint

The Barclays cashpoint in the tube ticket hall at London Waterloo. You have to watch yourself.

The other day, the girl in front of me left the ATM in frustration and headed off towards the barriers. As I drew closer to the screen, I could see that it seemed to be hanging with the message "counting your cash". I waited a little bit, assuming the thing was out of order and wondering how I was going to fund my Pret habit. Then - blow Phil down with a feather duster - if the machine didn't distribute the £60 that the previous user had assumed was never coming out!

Now, I'm an honest kind of guy. I could have pocketed that money and ordered double-shot americanos all week long. But what did I do? I set off in search of the girl who'd been robbed of her takings. With only the vaguest of descriptions to go on - I'd seen the back of her head - I spotted her at a nearby ticket window. And good Samaritan Phil reunited an innocent Londoner with her hard-earned lolly.

At least, I think it was her.

I thought that she'd offer me a tenner as a reward. But no. Not even a thank you and a peck on the cheek. She just said something like: "Oh, I thought it was never going to come out."

Charming. You do someone a favour...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...
3 comments
Read more

Special Constable update

I've now studied the Special Constable poster in more detail (see blogs passim ) and can reveal the idea is even more complex and bizarre than I first thought. You'll recall that a Special is on some seedy looking street corner, just yards away from where a drug deal is in progress. He's keenly observing events and looks ready to take some kind of action. The copy says that Specials wear uniform and always have back-up. But this guy is on his own in plain clothes. Worrying. Perhaps he's off duty but just can't leave the policing thing alone? Once a part-time copper, always a part-time copper. But wait. There is back up. It comes in the form of the constable's own reflection in a puddle. If he took his eyes off the criminal activity for just a second and took the trouble to look down at his feet, he'd see that in Puddle Land, he is wearing a uniform and carrying a radio. There's enough material here to fill a semiotics seminar for a day. If I disco...
4 comments
Read more

When one name isn't enough

You may have heard the news reports about the turmoil in Kingston, Jamaica, resulting from the government's attempts to pin down a notorious drug lord on behalf of the US. I was struck by the number of self-styled monikers this guy has given himself. He is, depending on the channel you listen to, known on the street as 'Dudas', 'The Big Man' and 'The President' - worshipped by many impoverished Kingston residents as a benefactor to slum dwellers. It's his real name that seems most appropriate, however. If you were a drug baron called Christopher Coke, wouldn't you leave it at that? It's certainly not a name to be sniffed at.
Post a Comment
Read more