7 Reasons

Tag: Car Park

  • 7 Reasons That you Shouldn’t pay £650 for a bag of Potatoes and Some Cardboard

    7 Reasons That you Shouldn’t pay £650 for a bag of Potatoes and Some Cardboard

    Last week in Huntingdon, a couple walking along the high street were approached by a man they didn’t know, who offered to sell them a rucksack containing an iPhone and a laptop for £650.  They agreed to this and, after visiting their bank, headed off to a car park behind some shops to conclude their transaction.  Some time later, on opening the rucksack, they discovered that rather than containing a laptop and an iPhone, it did in fact, contain some potatoes and some cardboard.  Yes, they’d been duped.  Now, it seems unlikely that you would be contemplating a similar transaction (in fact, it seems more likely that a talking vase with three fingers will become the next pope) but, just in case, here are seven reasons that it’s probably not a good idea.

    A photo of a group of muddy potatoes

    1.  It’s Too Much To Pay For Potatoes.  Even ones that come with bonus cardboard.  2.5kg of Sainsbury’s Basics potatoes cost 99p.  This means that for £650 you would get 1641 kg of them which is a lot more than you can fit in a small rucksack, in fact, it’s more than you can fit in a small hatchback.  Or, you can buy fewer potatoes and, with the money you’ve saved, you can buy a rucksack.  A bejewelled one made of gold and silk, probably.  Oh, and an apple.

    2.  Stupidity.  Now, far be it from me to mock the stupid…no…wait, that is what I’m about to do, sorry.   So, near be it to me to mock the stupid: What the hell were they thinking, the feckless nitwits?  Under what circumstance does buying a laptop in a car park from a man that’s just approached you on the street ever seem like a good idea?  That was going to be posed as a rhetorical question, but I’ve just thought of the answer.  Under no circumstance, that’s when.  Because to most people: You; me; everyone else in the world except for two people from Huntingdon, it might set off some alarm bells.

    3.  Morality. Unless, of course, they believed they were buying goods that had been criminally procured from some unfortunate victim.  In which case, the fact that £650 has been diddled from this couple would seem quite just.  You can’t make me believe for one moment that anyone would think this was a legitimate transaction.  A rucksack containing a laptop and an iPhone for £650 from a man in a car park?  Hmmm.  So, if you spend £650 on some potatoes and cardboard, you might end up appearing immoral.  And you’ll be lumbered with a rucksack.

    4.  Because The Potatoes And Cardboard Come In A Rucksack.  And rucksacks are awful.  Not when you’re hiking or climbing, then they’re very handy, but in an urban environment, rucksacks are a liability and likely to break things in shops or provoke a fellow pedestrian or public transport user into punching the wearer.  If you wear the things with the straps over both shoulders everyone thinks, what a complete cock, and if you wear the things with the straps over one shoulder everyone thinks, what a complete cock, why not just get a messenger bag? You don’t need a rucksack; there’s too much social stigma involved in wearing them.

    5.  The Dilemma.  This comes when you discover you’ve been ripped-off and instead of visiting your favourite humour website on a shiny new computer, you’re going to have to try to read The Onion using a potato.  Which sounds difficult.  So then you have to decide whether you’re going to go to the police and risk incriminating yourself, or whether to accept you’ve been conned and resolve not to let it happen again.  On balance, I think I’d opt for the latter.  Not that I’m likely to find myself in that position, mostly on account of not being a weaselly bell-end.

    6.  Publicity.  There’s a popular idiom which states that “any publicity is good publicity”.  This idiom, however, is stupid: Publicity didn’t work out too well for BP or Gary Glitter, did it?  And we can note that the anonymous victims/lucky-potato-owners haven’t revealed their identities.  Possibly because they wish to remain anonymous, or possibly because they’re too stupid to remember their own names, who knows?  One thing’s for certain though, if you spend £650 on potatoes and cardboard, tabloid journalists will be pulling out all of the stops to find out who you are.  And that sort of publicity doesn’t seem like good publicity to me.

    7.  Association.  Dr Crippen.  Marie Antoinette.  King Canute.  Names which will be forever synonymous with murder, arrogance and folly.  And if you spend £650 on a rucksack containing cardboard and potatoes, your name will doubtless become associated forever with either gullibility, avarice, or stupidity.  Or all three.  And you’ll have to recycle the cardboard.

  • 7 Reasons You Should Never Go To Wimbledon With Me

    7 Reasons You Should Never Go To Wimbledon With Me

    The following is based on a true story. Sadly.

    Rain Clouds At Wimbledon
    It Looks Like Rain

    1.  Rain. That’s what you’ll see when you wake up. Loads of it. ‘Bloody typical,’ you will say, ‘every day at Wimbledon has been hot and sunny this year. Except today. When the roads are flooding’. You’ll then have to decide what clothes to wear. Which is never an easy thing to do. Skirt or trousers. Shoes or flip-flops. Bra or no bra. Okay, the last one was me. And I went bra-less. Once decided, we’ll then make our way to the station where we find the…

    2.  Car Park is packed. Not a space to be seen. We’ll leave the station car park and I will make you drive to all the places in the village that require permits to park. You don’t have a permit. I shall then helpfully ask if you’d ‘just like to go home’. You don’t. You have taken a days holiday for this. You suggest we go to another station where car parking exists. I agree. But on the way, we quickly check our car park of choice again. I step up to the plate and spy a space. You have to circumnavigate a bus and do manoeuvres that make a Rubik cube look simple, but you get in there. Sadly, by the time we have disembarked via the sunroof* we have…

    3.  Missed The Train. We have thirty minutes until the next one, but don’t think you are going to be getting bored because now you are going to use your female charms** and get the nice man at the ticket kiosk to find us the cheapest route to London. He needs to take into account that we have one Network Railcard that comes into use at 10am. It is now 9:15am. The train leaves at 9:36am. It’s a problem that makes him wish he had a Maths GCSE. He succeeds though and the rest of the journey to Wimbledon goes without hiccup. Well, actually, it turns out to be very pleasant indeed. I teach you how to do a suduko and you teach me that I shouldn’t make comments about pictures of women in bikinis. Sadly this is where it goes horribly wrong again. Once inside the All England Club, we will discover that we are too late to get on Court 12 where we would have been able to watch Laura Robson and then Monsour Bahrami and Henri Laconte. Disappointed, I will try and cheer you up by buying you a…

    4.  Hot Dog. Though it had another fancy name that I can no longer remember. But it was a hot dog. A sausage in a roll. That’s a hot dog. Unless it’s a sausage roll. But this wasn’t. It was a hot dog. And I’ve just bought you one. And I’ve bought myself one. We shall walk away towards the ketchup. Here, I shall ask you where my hot dog is. You say you don’t know. I’ve left it behind haven’t I? Yes, I have. I walk back to the hot dog vendor and as casual as it is possible to say, I say, ‘I seem to have forgotten my hot dog’. I feel a bit stupid. You feel a bit stupid about being at Wimbledon with someone so stupid. The sun has come out though, so we go off to…

    5.  Court 5. Here I shall select the seats furthest away from the action. Thankfully, you have a bit more common sense than I do, so after we’ve seen the British Junior – Oliver Golding – win, we move to a better location. Here we watch another British Junior – Eleanor Dean – win. Then comes the match we came to this court to see. Greg Rusedski and Todd Martin against Jonas Bjorkman and Tood Woodbridge. Greg Rusedski injures his quad and at 5-0 in the first set, the match is over. I am beginning to think that there is going to be a 7 Reasons piece in this. You are beginning to think you should never have come to Wimbledon with me. Later, you advance towards jazz music and the champagne bar. I follow you with my…

    6.  Tea and Bourbon Biscuits. I don’t get hints. You realise I don’t get hints – either that or I am not prepared to pay £117 for Champagne when I have – just two hours previously – splashed out £3.30 on a pathetically small ice cream for you. We leave. Ninety-minutes later we are back in the…

    7.  Car Park. There are only four cars left, but, unsurprisingly, given that I am with you, your car is still boxed in. You climb over the bonnet and in through the sunroof and I direct you through a 27-point turn to get out of the space. You are now in touching distance of home. Nothing else can possibly go wrong.***

    *Might be a slight exaggeration, but you definitely do not get out of your door.

    **This won’t work if you’re a man.

    ***Until I start singing ‘I’m Coming Out’ by Diana Ross. All because you told me Spain and Portugal were coming out after half-time.