OK, so I didn't get around to it yesterday, but today I took all my bagged-up change down to the bank. Now, let it not be said that this signals the retirement of the great Changemaster. No sir. But despite my perfectly devilish ability to turn small change into big change armed with nothing more than my incredible wits and agility, there are times when you just have to pretend to be 'normal people' and do things like mortals do.
Today was that day. And since I was taking something like 17 bags of nuisance copper coins (quaintly entitled 'bronze' by the banking industry), the mighty Changemaster took his silver small change along for the ride too. Sure, I could have shoved £25 worth of 20ps, 10ps and 5ps into vending machines up and down the country, in some kind of serial change exchanging shakedown that would arguably have made me the most wanted man in Britain*, but if I'm going to be inside a bank... may as well get rid of the silver at the same time, huh?
£75 worth of change weighs an awful lot, I discovered. The lady behind the counter did not seem entirely pleased to see me, and did seem concerned at first as to whether I had properly counted and separated the coins, rather than having just filled the bags up with random change like some kind of hobo. Nonetheless, our business was soon transacted, and it wasn't long before I had not only disposed of about 5 years worth of change, but also six months worth of small cheques and postal orders which had been sitting on top of my filing cabinet awaiting a suitable banking opportunity.
In some strange way, putting money in the bank feels an awful lot like tidying up, and just as satisfying. I must do it more often.
* - alright, I realise this isn't actually illegal, but it sounds good, huh?
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