Friday 13 March 2009

Defiled!

My legs are wobbling! My eyes are glazed. A terrible sense of shame has crawled over me like a second skin. How could I have done it? That Thing I said I would never do! If only I could turn the clock back! But I know its too late. I will have to bear this burden for the rest of my miserable life. I was going to save this for Confession but I will confide in you as friends. I used a Debit card in the Newsagents.

When they started taking cards, these small shops, I swore I would never be a part of it. Small shops should have cash only - or a slate like with papers and that - because they're not frackin' Tescos. Why can't people have enough money for their fags and chocolates and that. Why should they live by a swipe of a card?

I mean I have done it at Fatso's occasionally. I have bought a few groceries on the credit card. But He doesn't count. Fatso is like a cheap whore. One of those really - and I mean really - cheap types you pick up at a place with sawdust on the floor. You can defile him all you like and forget him afterwards. It really doesn't matter how much you misuse him. He likes it.

But not my Hallowed newsagent next door. Who I treat with such reverence and respect. Leaving Him pure and untouched. Keeping it traditional with fivers and loose change. I mean i've run out of fags before - of course I have. But when your Oyster cards' dried up too - it can push a person with the most purest principles over the edge.

When I put my card in His rented pin machine, I felt another side of me - the dirty side - had been revealed and my hands shook as I put in the Pin number. I looked at him with tears in my eyes. Will He ever forgive me? I have treated him on the same level as that scrubber Fatso.

If I didn't know better, I would have actually said that the Newsagent rather enjoyed this degrading act. In fact there was a big smile on his face throughout the whole perverted and filthy procedure. It just shows you never know anyone!

The Cat bit my foot.

8 comments:

Tim Atkinson said...

Look on the bright side - you could have written him a cheque. And the cat might have bitten both feet!

French Fancy... said...

You could also have brought in a piggy bank and slowly and carefully counted out the 5p pieces. He should be pleased to have you as a (smoking) customer.

Do you have an exchange date yet?

The Ice Bloggers said...

Jenny I love you:
"Fatso is like a cheap whore. One of those really - and I mean really - cheap types you pick up at a place with sawdust on the floor. You can defile him all you like and forget him afterwards. It really doesn't matter how much you misuse him. He likes it"
You are a brilliant writer and you always make me laugh, without fail.

Confession: I can't remember the last time I used cash. If cash is required I shout UHugh over to sort it out. xxxx

Mean Mom said...

Lol! Yes, I know what you mean. I try not to use my card for anything under £10, even when I'm in the supermarket, but occasionally I have to! The cat was obviously very disappointed in you.

Suburbia said...

Always love your writing Jen! What IS up with that cat?!!!

Jennysmith said...

hello sweeties

thanks for your wonderful comments. A cheque, D! How quaint. Aren't they in museums now? Along with 7" vinyl?

Hi FF, no, actually , have heard Nothing at all. Probably a surveyor next but God knows when. Bless you for your witty comments.

Blimey HTDs Mum! Are you the Queen in disguise? Mind you, a lot of mum's round here don't carry cash either. Bless you sweetie, you're a great writer too.

Hi MM, yes, i try to set a limit but its not always easy is it.

Hi Sub, I know - that bloody cat! xxxxxx

The Ice Bloggers said...

You said it - HM, that's me:)

Henry the Dog said...

It's gonna go to her head if we're not careful folks