Thursday, 25 November 2010

Money doesn't talk, it swears

I really need some extra cash. Christmas is coming and I have pretty close to zero pence in my account, no job and an upcoming phonebill, which judging by my last bill will be double the amount I signed up to pay with no explanation or apology apart from some bullshit about three picture messages I sent months ago. Thankfully I have paid my last installment of rent before I flee oversees but no matter how many times I add things up on my phone's calculator (maybe they're charging me extra for that?!) I still don’t have enough.

I googled 'ways to make money fast in London' and was disappointed with what I found.

1. Sell your hair. Jesus! I'm a bit skint not a Romanian peasant with the village pimp on her back trying to buy her youngest daughter. No hair will be sold, if I do decide to have a Posh Spice circa '99 cut then it has zero to do with the money and everything to do with my love for the era.

2. Pose as a life model for an art class. I really thought about this one and was pretty keen until I read this bit...

'You must also be prepared not only to be visually scrutinised by a class full of students, but verbally by the tutor pointing out your very personal idiosyncrasies.'

I don't know about you but £10 an hour doesn’t seem enough to be naked, cold and hunched (or worse, splayed) in whichever position a total stranger decides on while a group of pervy OAPs and foreign students gawp at your fanny and some arty prick walks around you with a long stick pointing out every flabby roll and patch of scar tissue on your goosepimpled body, eventually leaving you cold and still for the duration of the class with only the prospect of seeing a roomful of paintings of the very faults you’ve been crying inside over for the last two hours. Oh yeah and £20. No thanks, not for me.

3. Flog your designer clothes. Who the fuck wrote this list, Tara Palmer Tomkinson on a downer? Don’t have any, all my clothes are from Peacocks. Next.

4. Pawn your jewels. Fuck offfff.

5. Advertise in Private Eye's 'Eye Need' page. Hmmmm this is more like it! Apparently you can place an advert in the back pages of Private Eye (the thinking man's Heat) begging for cash!

'In the back of Private Eye magazine there is a column called ‘Eye Need’ where readers can publish a very short description of why they need money, together with their sort code and account details. Rich readers (the Eye has many) can and do put money into their bank accounts.'

Like a kind of hobo lonely hearts. Defiantly worth a shot I'd say.

'Girl too shy to strip, long brown hair (wants to keep it that way) and green eyes (sore from crying) in desperate need of cash this Christmas. No designer gear or jewels to flog and sacked from job for shagging. Please give generously.'

I'll update on my progress.

Alternatively I could try babysitting, that’s if anyone is prepared to leave me alone with their children for any length of time after getting to know me even slightly. I'll try and pick up some tips just in case...

Monday, 1 November 2010

The best thing about today was that I managed to steal an extra box of Canesten Duo thrush treatment from Greenwich Pharmacy.

I think I must have been the first person to ever suggest paying by Visa for something as it took the woman who served me a good ten to twelve seconds to process what I was proposing when I took out my card. Once she had asked if I could pay cash (no - I'll pay whichever way is most fucking convenient to me, this is 2010, I have thrush and it's your job to be nice to me you retarded old bat), she took my Visa card from me (reluctantly) into the back room only to appear a minute later claiming that 'we're sending a fax through on the card machine so you'll need to wait ten minutes'.

I'm a reasonable person and I don't claim to know for definite that you can’t send a fax through a chip and pin card reader, but REALLY??? ARE YOU REALLY SENDING A FAX THROUGH THAT THING? OR ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO GET ME TO PAY CASH BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT SURE WHICH BUTTONS TO PRESS TO MAKE THE MAGIC PLASTIC MONEY FLY INTO YOUR TILL?

It took her a further 15 minutes to complete my card transaction, all done in the back room apart from when she hurried back to get me to 'press my numbers'. So I didn't feel even a tiny bit guilty convincing her that she hadn't already given me my box of itching relief cream and oral capsule and so walked away with a double portion of magic minge medicine. HAVE THAT GREENWICH PHARMACY! AND LEARN TO USE A FUCKING CHIP AND PIN OR I'LL DO IT AGAIN NEXT TIME I HAVE A YEAST INBALANCE IN MY VAGINA!


p.s. thrush isn't dirty my mum told me only clean people get it.