No cash please, we're mates!

Your friends will be borrowing £1 coins off you: beware

As we start 2012 with a whimper, carefully nursing our battered wallets back to financial health by not spending on anything except reduced lines baked beans and bread, let us not forget those whose friends are responsible for their penury.

Yes, friends. I'm not talking about lending money to friends - although I would no longer advocate this as you never know what situations may happen to prevent your friends from repaying you in full, in the time you needed. It can affect the dynamics of a relationship or, like Charlie Sheen's character Charlie in an earlier-than-Ashton series of Two and A Half Men, mean you get stung in an elaborate plot that involves you sleeping with your step-sister-in-law-to-be, lending her $50,000 and buying a Ferrari you didn't want.

What I am talking about is the Cash Converter friend. The friend who turns to another for all their coinage and notage needs. The friend who gets the bus with you and has not got £2 for the fare. The friend who does not have anything smaller than a £20 when it comes to paying tips. The mate who suggests getting a taxi but somehow does not carry anywhere near enough money to foot the bill.

According to a Capital One survey, Brits have been forking out £562 million a year as a result of ‘subbing’ friends.

More than 43 say they never receive a penny of this borrowed money back.

Now you have been warned. Next time you go out with friends, ask them to make sure they have some cash. Or don't carry any yourself and make sure you recoup your 2011 losses in 2012!

Capital One asked respondents which items they had paid for on behalf of others who did not have cash in the past three months:
Drinks in cash-only bars/restaurants	18%
Items bought in cash-only stores e.g. markets	13%
Tips in bars and restaurants	12%
Taxi fares	10%
Charity donations and fundraisers	6%
Items purchased with cash due to a minimum card spend	6%
Tolls and one-off/unexpected charges	6%

There's always one...

I dedicate this post to Mutley, who gave me the idea, and to Electro-Kevin who has to put up with such people every day...

There is always one weirdo on the same mode of public transport as yourself.

You know what I mean - the man with the crazy eyes (one eye lookin' atcha, one eye lookin' for ya). Or the woman with rats up her sleeve who HAS to, yes simply HAS to sit next to you even though there are 100 seats free in the carriage, or the deaf old lady who feels the need to ask everyone how old she is.

This latter one, coincidentally, was my grandmother, who had a habit of asking random strangers to guess her age.

"Guess how old I am?" she would yell at some long-haired hippy student minding his own business.
"I couldn't possibly"
"Oh, go on, go on. Take a guess."
"I really couldn't"
"Just a little guess" (sorry, that should have read)
"JUST A LITTLE GUESS"
"Er... 64"
"Oh you flatterer, you, I'm 82 next year."
"So you're 81 now then?"
"Pardon?"
(turning to my mother) "We need to get off the bus now, this young man is talking to me and I think he's going to steal my pension book".

Anyway, when Grandmother Merms finally popped her fins, Merms was left facing the uncomfortable prospect of having an Unknown Weirdo on the bus... and realising that I am indeed that weirdo.

I AM THE WEIRDO ON THE BUS. One day I was sitting by myself, enjoying my seat at the front of an EMPTY bus, just listening to the Stones on my iPod, when Merms espies at the approaching bus stop a young lady with several shopping bags.

Merms does not have a crystal ball, but immediately Merms knew that, of all the 82 empty seats on the 133, that Bag Girl would come and sit right next to her. Now Bag Girl was not a weirdo, let me get that straight. But Merms was not happy. Puffer jackets should be banned in the interests of public safety. Bag Girl also put her shopping up on the shelf in front so that Merms could not look out of the window. Bag Girl also took out a newspaper too big for her to manoeuvre and flicked it in the Merms' face.

So I decided to be THE ONE. I decided to be the Weirdo on the Bus. I texted three friends to ask their opinion; they all told me to go for it. So I thought of my options:

1) The Alexi Sayle "Do you like sponge? I am only allowed Sponge. They won't let me have anything sharper than SPONGE" approach, which was not just Weird, but possibly dangerously creepy
2) The "I like dogs, but not brown ones" approach, which is weird, but also has the endearing effect of her perhaps thinking I am autistic, which might make her feel the need to stay next to me and talk to me out of the milk of human kindness
3) Chickening out

I decided on a mix of 2 and 3. Turning towards her suddenly and staring not at her, but at her jugular vein, I adopted a Yorkshire accent and said:

"Do you like Streatham?"

She turned to look at me. "S.................?"

I froze.

"You're S.............. aren't you? You went to school with me. You were a couple of years below me."

She eyed me strangely as if to say: "You always were weird and I guess nothing has changed."

I had no idea who she was. I guess she recognised my tail. I was mortified.

I have decided that I will never again try to be weird. My life is strange enough without trying. Anyway I have to go now and milk the hippo.

Another stunningly embarrassing moment for the Mermaid

So I was sitting on the bus home last night.

It being a very crowded bus, the only seats left were at the top, right at the back. You know the ones I mean... they were the hard grey plastic seats opposite the row of seats that line the very back of the bus. This means that you are forced to eyeball whoever is squished into the seat opposite you.

In my case, this was two Polish builders, who were very polite and moved their bags to give me more leg room.

However, the traffic being stop and start,
the seats being very slippery
and my coat being of a non-stick material

... I found myself ending up with my head in the guy's crotch when the bus jerked suddenly and I shot forward. Putting my hand out to steady myself I ended up pushing him hard in the chest before I slid off into a kneeling position, face-first, into his groinal area.

He was shocked, to say the least; his friend was laughing so hard everyone was turning round to see what had transpired.

All I could muster, between laughter and profuse apologies, was: "Well, I've not done THAT before."