We’re trying to clear out the house a bit - for various reasons - and one particular problem is the huge amount of small change My Beloved strews around the place.
I don’t know if it’s an aesthetic or a moral decision, but he has something against small change.
He comes home at the end of the day, pockets rattling, and pours the contents of his pants (US Eng.) on to any available floor or sideboard.
I am, therefore, always tripping over little puddles of pennies and scooping them into jars and bottles and bowls and boxes.
The bigger denominations are creamed off the top (it’s a service charge, what?!) - and then I go to the shop and buy milk or bread or washing tablets in ten pences and twenty pences and occasionally five pences if I’m feeling bloody-minded.
However, not even I am bloody-minded enough to pay several pounds in tuppences, so those have been a sticking point, and have sat in their jars and bowls and boxes and bottles with their little penny friends until we could think of something to do with them.
There are two obvious choices of things to do with very small change if you live were we live.
You can either:
a) Take it to the change machine at the supermarket and pour it into the slot and have it converted into larger denomination cash or shopping vouchers, OR
b) Take it down to the pier and put it into those pushpenny arcade machines that send coins hurtling onto a moving shelf with other coins, hopefully pushing those other coins off, in the hope of making our fortunes.
The sensible option, I think you will agree, is obvious.
Therefore we found ourselves at the pier late this afternoon.
Well, we have a guest (my sister-out-law, hello Amy!) and it is FAR more sociable to go for a walk on the pier than it is to go for a saunter around Sainsbugs.
Anyway - this whole thing is just to tell you about thirty seconds of weirdness.
I will get there soon.
We were throwing those two pences into machines, watching as they sat on the moving platform, pushed other two pences onto the shelf below, pushed all the two pences on the shelf below slightly forward but failed to push them over the edge of the very last shelf and so, frustratingly, failed to make our fortunes. I personally have begun to suspect that those machines don’t offer an honest return on your investment and therefore might not be the key to longterm financial success.
(I know! No, really, it’s a pleasure)
Still, there we were, wandering around and having general fun; me My Beloved, and my sister-out-law, and I had our little baggie of tuppences, and they had an air of boredom, and one minute they were there, next to me … the next, they were gone.
I did not let that detract me. I had a vague notion that at if I stood there and put enough two pences into the two pence machine, it would eventually pour forth thousands of twopees, and then we would be able to afford a deposit for even a tiny weeny house.
I put 2p in the 2p machine. It rolled down a clear plastic ramp, bounced off a plastic peg and came to rest on the metal shelf where, when the shelf moved back, it pushed another 2p off the front and caused the whole process to start again on the lower shelf. The coins moved forward (slightly) on the lower shelf, but the coins didn’t tip into the tray.
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp and fell straight onto the tray, on top of some other two pences, and therefore did nothing.
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp, fell onto the tray and pushed the 2ps so that three fell onto the lower shelf of two pences, and then four fell off the edge and into the winner’s enclosure below. Hurray!
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp, fell onto the tray, and failed to push anything off anything at all.
At this point, however, I realised there was a presence at my elbow.
I thought it might be My Beloved, or possibly my sister-out-law, but, with a subtle look, I realised it wasn’t. It was a pretty young teenage girl that I had never seen before in my life, and she was fixated on my 2p machine.
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp and fell on to the clear bit of the tray which - when it moved back - pushed other coins to the lower level and the mountain of coppers further over the edge at the very front.
A hand nudged my back. A voice mumbled behind me. I glanced around and realised that my one person watching wasn’t just one person. It was four people. There were four young teenagers standing around me, staring intently at my pushpenny machine, and mumbling to each other.
In French.
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp and bounced from the top level onto the bottom level, hitting the pile of lower coins without making an impact one way or the other.
Behind me, I heard eight people sigh.
I checked. There were now eight teenage French students watching me play on a pushpenny machine.
I put 2p into the 2p machine. It rolled down the clear plastic ramp and, bizarrely, pushed a coin that pushed another coin, pushing 16 coins into the happybucket, and causing a small ripple of satisfied Gallic moans from the eleven French students now standing behind me.
I put another 2p.
Another 2p.
Another 2p.
Another 2p.
By the time I pushed through the crowd, head down, there were at least two dozen French schoolchildren standing around my pushpenny machine, gaping aghast at the marvel of me and my small change.
I stood in the middle of the horrible, horrible arcade and looked back. None of them had yet risked the danger of taking on the marvellous machine - they still seemed to be standing, staring.
I wandered off.
Far away, five minutes later, my beloved and sister-out-law were to be found shooting fake enemies under the cover of pointless camouflage.
“Did you win our fortune?” He asked.
“No, but I won over the French.” I said, not knowing why. “I had an audience to my rubbish gamblings. A HUGE audience” I said.
“Of course you did.” said my beloved. “Of course you did.”
I did, internet, I internet-swear I did.
And as everyone know my internet-swearing to be the very best swearing I do, it must be true.
I’m famous to the French school trips of Brighton.
Me and my small change.
Could you please set this post to music? I feel there is a song in this.
Comment by Meg — 13 July, 2008 6:49 am
I had no idea that either of these machine types existed. I can convert my small change into (a) less small change or (b) more small change? I had NO idea. My world is suddenly a much brighter place.
Comment by scroobious — 13 July, 2008 10:20 am
Tomorrow is Bastille Day and all you can think about is beating the French? Not very sympathetic towards your (temporarily) near neighbours, are you? :-)
Comment by Brennig — 13 July, 2008 2:02 pm
Great story:
You want….2p or not 2p, that, is the question.
The answer is, don’t ever…..change!
Comment by Bill Winning — 13 July, 2008 9:40 pm
I too have tried to secure myself a life of ease and plenty by way of the Tuppenny Falls on Brighton pier.
My sister used to live just near the marina, (No, not on the Whitehawk thank you!) and I once spent the wettest fortnight in living memory, cat sitting while their mother sunned herself in Greece.
I felt very self-concious playing these old machines aged 38…but man they are addicitive! Good job kids these days prefer their PS2 derivatives. They ain’t ready for the hard stuff.
At least you took your own 2p’s….I had to face the ignominy of going to the little window for change. After the third or fourth time the look of pity on the woman’s face was more than I could stand, and I went to a pub instead. Otherwise I might be there still.
Comment by Greenmantle — 13 July, 2008 10:38 pm
Ahhh, 2p machines are my FAVOURITE thing in the ENTIRE WORLD! Well, one of them, anyway. I go all warm and fuzzy, yet filled with longing, just thinking about them. It is probably a good thing in that respect that I don’t live anywhere near the sea. I would do little else. Although - if you go and get a pound converted into tuppences, which is what I did last time I was at the seaside - it is probably about the most fun you can have for a pound these days. I am ‘good at’ them (possibly deluded), so I can make a pound last a long time. A lot of them have been converted into 10p machines, which is just expenisve and rubbish and against the spirit of the thing.
Awesome story… how is it you are such a weirdness magnet? But you are clearly tormenting us on purpose, right, with the suggestive I’m-going-to-be-the-secret titles?
Comment by Eloise — 14 July, 2008 12:15 am
I have twice prepared to take a HUGE jar op 1p & 2p coins to Sainsbury’s to convert into change. Twice I have chickened out due two a couple of concurring extremes:
1. A HUGE jar of coins is extremely heavy, and I can still remember what a hernia feels like, and
2. The coin converting process is extremely noisy, so that everyone in the postcode knows that you’re short of hard cash, and are trying to get enough together for a 2 ounce pack of Golden Virginia.
Also - annoyingly - the cash converting machine at said Sainsbury’s has an option button to donate the converted cash to a local charity. It is therefore likely that the checkout people will look at my voucher thingy and thing I’m a real skinflint for deciding to buy something for myself. The Penny Falls was definitely the way to go. Now if I could just raise the fare to get to the coast . . .
You begin with: “We’re trying to clear out the house a bit - for various reasons . . . ” Is THIS to do with The Secret?
Comment by Yeractual — 14 July, 2008 12:38 am
So you went to the pier to get rid of your change, and came back with… lots of change. All you’ve managed to do is launder your money in very small denominations.
Quick! To Sainsburys! There’s a gang of Italian teenagers hanging around by the Useless-Toy-In-A-Kinder-Egg-Type-Bubble machine! GO!
Comment by Daniel — 14 July, 2008 10:46 am
I am totally addicted to those 2p machines. I have of late dipped my toe into the world of 10p machines, but got burned pretty swiftly and returned to the warm bosom of the 2p machine.
A few weeks ago, I tried to claim that these machines were not only fab but also could provide sustenance - I managed to tip two Cadbury’s Creme Eggs into the tray bit as well as a few 2ps. Fun, wealth and chocolate - WHAT ELSE COULD OFFER YOU ALL THIS?
Comment by Vicky — 14 July, 2008 12:05 pm
Hello there, lurker here, lurked over from the App liveblog. I also love those 2p machines - have done since I was about 8, when you could buy quite a lot of stuff with 2p. 4 sweets minimum, anyway. So a few weeks ago I spent a happy week in St Ives with my other half and, blissed out on ‘festival strength’ pear cider (seriously BRILLIANT stuff) wandered in to the slotties and discovered an apparently generous 2p shove machine that kept giving me loads of 2ps back, until I realised that actually ALL the 2ps in there were now technically mine, and every so often some of them got shoved out again, making me very excited. That was 30p well spent, I can tell you - kept me going for at least 45 happy minutes. I might get one for at home - just for when i need cheering up.
Comment by Jane — 14 July, 2008 4:15 pm
I love 2p machines. Sadly there aren’t any in Germany… come to think of it there aren’t any 2p’s either.A 2 cent machine just wouldn’t be the same.
Comment by Bev — 14 July, 2008 8:44 pm
Heh, we have an old arcade just north of Boston that has 1 cent machines.
Instead of getting pennies back as they fall through the bottom. You get tickets that you then trade in for crap toys from China or candy. Not only is it a great way to waste an hour or so, but you also get a crappy return on your investment.
Comment by Brian — 14 July, 2008 9:20 pm
Right now, there’s a busload of schoolchildren from Tunbridge Wells in a Tabac in Nice, gasping at some guy blowing a day’s earnings on scratchies
Comment by drew — 15 July, 2008 4:19 am
Obviously, I meant Calais.
Comment by drew — 15 July, 2008 4:19 am
2p machines are fabulous. I took my children to the arcade in Southwold two years ago. My youngest daughter who was three, would not relinquish her money into the machine, but watched everyone else like a hawk. Because she was so small lots of people forgot she was there. She would wait until this time, hold her plastic cup under the slot and make off with their winnings! I watched for ages before dragging her away just to see if anyone would notice! She made about a quid and was really impressed with herself…
Comment by katyboo1 — 15 July, 2008 3:21 pm
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
I love this post.
Can you tell?
Comment by clare — 19 July, 2008 9:37 pm