small change

For years we’ve had a tin full of coins in the garage.  It once contained a bottle of champagne (long since gone) but now holds coin of the realm - some of which also appears to have been long gone - when did anyone last spend a penny? (In the literal sense).

As well as receptacle for small change, it has become a handy door stop - even more so as it becomes almost too heavy to lift.  It will easily stop a gale force wind from slamming the door shut.

Anniemay often hints that when it becomes full, we’ll spend it on a slap up meal (this could be a burger stall or a swanky bistro, depending on the total).  

It’s now been full for a few months but neither of us can be bothered to bag up the coins into 1p, 2p and 5p pieces as required by the bank.

She notices a machine at the supermarket which offers to take it off our hands in exchange for a commission of 9.9%.  She baulks at this, but I guess there could be about £30-£40 in the tin.  So 9.9% doesn’t seem too unreasonable to avoid the faff of queuing in the bank.

We duly go to the supermarket with two trolleys - one for the shopping and one to carry the coin tin.  As luck would have it, the machine is free.  We start loading and almost at once it spits a few out.  I examine them carefully; euros.  Someone has given us euros in change. Tut.

The machine rumbles and clanks and provides a running total as we try to keep up with its voracious appetite.  More rejects - this time cents (US) and cents (Australian).  

I gather up the unwanted coin, which by the end would make a reasonable door stop on its own account.

Eventually silence; we look in disbelief at the screen. £88.65.  Swanky bistro it is then.