Good deed for the day.

[davywavy]

Whilst travelling home from work on Tuesday I was going down the escalator at Kings Cross when I looked down and there at my feet was a roll of tenners. It isn't every day this happens.
It wasn't a small sum of money - more than a hundred quid, I'd guess, rolled in an elastic band. My immediate reaction was predictable. "Waahooo!" I thought. "This will buy me the new pair of Oakley's I've been lusting after!"
I picked it up and looked about and there, at the bottom of the escalator, was a bloke looking bemused and feeling in his pockets. He hadn't seen me, and, if it was his money, he plainly had no idea I had it.

A little red version of myself holding a pitchfork appeared on my shoulder. "Keep it", said my evil side.
I nodded. My evil side made a good, sensible-sounding case.
After a very long pause, another figure, this of myself in robes with a harp appeared on my right shoulder.
"Hello", I said. "I haven't seen much of you lately."
With vocal cords long unused, my good side struggled to speak for a moment. It shrugged. "There's not been much for me to do.", it said. "Give his his money back. It's his, not yours."
"Ah", pitched in my evil side. "But he's got a wad of tenners and you haven't. That means if you keep it then it wouldn't be theft, it would be redistribution of wealth. That's how it works, you know."
I nodded again. My evil side was talking a lot of sense.
My good side cried out in horror. "You sound like Gordon Brown!", it cried.
I cursed. My good side was right.


"Scuse me", I said. "Have you lost some money?"
"Yeah?", he replied, hopefully.
"How much. It's not like I'm just going to hand it over."
"A roll of notes?"
"Damn. You win."
I gave him his money and went off to Ninja High, wondering if the expression of surprise and gratitude on his face was worth a wad of cash to me.

Comments

[christ1974.livejournal.com]

That said though who keeps tenners rolled up in elastic bands these days, apart from Gangsters from the sweeney.

[davywavy.livejournal.com]

The guy was obviously, and I mean obviously a stoner. Even I, famously oblivious to the world around me, could tell he was.
It added something to the giving it back, though. My inner sanctimony was crying "he'll spend it on drugs!"