Penny Drop

I don’t go to the supermarket on Saturday night very often.  Not because I’m out partying like a Whirling Dervish but because, more often than not, I’m slumped on the sofa like a Boring Old Fart.  It comes to something when life is so exhausting that the most attractive use of spare time is brain-dead dozing.  Having said that, a night out at the local Sainsbury’s isn’t really my idea of fun.  Still, it seems I’m missing a whole host of weekend activities that had eluded me before.

I was at the local store twice this evening.  For the same thing - such is my organisational prowess.  I wouldn’t admit it in public, but it was quite a pleasant experience.  Obviously it’s a relative term.  There were no queues, the shelves were stocked and my fellow customers seemed unusually friendly.  I’d heard rumours before about the grocery aisle being ranked third after Christmas parties and Internet Chatrooms for pick-ups but I don’t think I’ve ever had quite so many conversations about my root vegetables. And I’ll never be able to look at a pineapple again after my comments about the sword-shaped leaves were so wildly misinterpreted. 

I decided against collecting some muffins for breakfast. 

There was more excitement at the far end of the supermarket.  I saw a queue of people clustered around a dispensing machine.  They were giddy with anticipation and all carried unfeasibly heavy sacks.  I have never seen so many tuppences.  The object of their desire was a Small Change Converter but to these people, it was more magical than the wizard from Oz.

I watched as each person poured enormous quantities of copper coins into the bin on top.  The machine whirred and clicked as the pennies dropped.  The audience stood enrapt.  One small man in a tank-top couldn’t contain himself:  he clapped excitedly. 

The ‘fridge-sized box vibrated a little. 

A tantalising moment of silence while the magic worked. 

The tension was palpable.

Finally the money came.  I think the man in the tank-top did too.  This simple mechanical device produced unalloyed glee in its users.  Copper into silver.  What magic, what alchemy. 

Supermarkets  will never seem the same again.

Comments

[Mrs RW]

We have those coin machines here, too, in the US. They're called "CoinStar" but the buggers don't give you actual money, just a coupon to apply to a purchase at that store, or on e-bay, etc. What a rip-off! You can only cash in your coins if you immediately spend the money at the sponsor's store! Even though the people at the bank cringe when they see you carrying in your hoard of coin, at least you get real money back at the end of the transaction.

I have a piggy-bank that my spare change goes into for the granddaughter. I have an odd idea that she'll be able to use the money for something special. School, maybe? More likely a trip to the toy store.

[Carlton]

I don't like the sound of those CoinStar machines, Mrs RW. Where's the fun in vouchers?!

And your granddaughter's piggy bank - it must be enormous if you can even consider she might use the cash for school!!! c.