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A regular occurrence on a Wednesday morning at the police station was being inundated by members of the public claiming to have lost the cash from their state benefit Giro cheque – on their way back from the post office to the shops!
They never, ever lost their Giro cheque – it was always their money, immediately after they had cashed their Giro cheque.
The common practice was, should this unfortunate incident occur, to call at the local police office and make a loss report to the police, then obtain a ‘pink slip’ receipt confirming you had reported the loss. Thereafter, you would attend, with your pink slip at the local DHSS office and receive a crisis loan, for the amount of cash you allegedly lost.
Whether anyone ever repaid the crisis loan is another story!
Due to this continual practice, the cops and station assistants were becoming more frustrated and infuriated, in particular with the same old faces presenting the same set of circumstances, every other week, as to how they had inadvertently lost their Giro money.
One alleged loser, came up with a novel excuse, which just has to be shared.
Having called at the police station, under the influence of alcohol, he reported he had lost his Giro cheque cash.
When I asked him where he had lost it, he supplied me with the following account, in a slurred and drunken Glaswegian voice.
‘Right big man, I’m gonnae tell ye the whole truth, right!’ (Well that’s a good start!)
‘This is absolutely genuine big man. Ye’re never gonnae believe it. Just wait tae ah tell ye this! See, I’ve cashed my Giro, right? And I had a right dose o’ fucken’ toothache. Oops! Sorry for swearing, big man – just a wee slip-up! Know whit a mean? Anyway, ah had a right dose o’ the effen toothache!’
He then put his hand into his mouth. Pulling it open and pointing with his other hand, he said, ‘That bastert right there! Well, it’s no’ there noo, ’cause it’s oot, but I’m telling ye exactly whit happened, big man, as God is my – hic! – judge! Right, so ah said to mysel’, “Dentist, my man!” ’ He paused for a moment to think, then repeated, ‘Dentist?’
He screwed his eyes up and scratched his head while talking to himself. Then he snapped his fingers!
‘Ah mean, “Dennis, my man.” Forgot ma fucken name there for a minute! Oh, sorry, man, jist slipped oot again! Sorry!
‘Anyway, Ah said tae mysel’, “Dennis, you need to go and see the dennist! So ah made my way up tae the Dental Hospital, right? And yer man, the dennist says tae me, “Dennis! Ye’re needin’ a few o’ yer munchers out, son, so, I’m gonnae gie ye a wee dose o’ gas, OK?” Noo, Who am I tae argue wi’ the dennist, he knows the score and he’s a big b-ba-ba—-’
I interrupted him before he repeated it. ‘Dennis!’
He continued, ‘ba-balack guy, so Ah said tae him, “You’re the boss big man. Fill yer boots, but jist don’t shrink my heid! Right?” Well! when I’ve woke up, my gub was full o’ blood and I was feeling like I’d just smoked some right heavy Moroccan wacky backy, ’cause ma heid’s pure dizzy, right? And this is whit Ah think happened.
‘Noo, listen up! Ah think, I’ve taken my Giro money oot and when I went tae put it back into my poacket Ah’ve missed and it’s dropped oot, oan tae the grun’ below! Noo! Whit dae ye think yersel’, big yin? Does that no’ sound like a pure genuine story?’
He then threw his hands out by his side and said, in a Tommy Cooper voice and visual impersonation, ‘The whole truth big man, just like’ – hic! – that!’
I stood there staring at him for a moment, in total amazement, trying to digest this remarkable tale of woe, in fact, it cheered me up, being one of the best I’ve ever heard.
All the while he stood there in front of me, demonstrating with his hands how he could have missed his pocket. And then, pulling at his mouth, opening it wide, to expose this black crater where he once had teeth.
After giving his scenario some serious thought for a few moments, I said, ‘So, you’re saying you lost your Giro money, when you were at the dentist having some teeth removed. Is that right?’
He snapped his fingers then, offered up his hand to shake mine, he said, ‘Ye’re absolutely spot on, big man. That’s exactly whit I’ve been tellin’ ye.’ Hic! Now ye’re talking!’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘might I suggest you rush home to your house and check under your pillow and see if the Tooth Fairy has been and left you any cash! … Because you’re not getting a pink slip from me. Now get lost!’