The Price of Fish

The other week, I briefly mentioned a game I like to play when I'm coming home late and haven't had anything to eat - going around all the shops on the station concourse and seeing what I can afford with the change in my pockets. I think I said coppers, originally, but I have to admit that this was for dramatic effect, and I do include silver, as well - anything smaller than a £1 coin. To better understand why I like this game, you should know that I am a dyed-in-the-wool (whatever that means) packed luncher, who recoils from spending money on lunch or snacks of any kind during the working day (except on certain social occasions). A direct consequence of this is that on those rare occasions whne I don't have a packed lunch with me and find myself dining alone (either because I've forgotten my lunchbox or due to being stood up by a lunch date), my head starts to spin as a result of the massive array of choices avaialble in Soho where I work, and I have to return to my desk to calm down before making a decision. For the record, I always end up in Pret.

Anyway, to return to my station concourse game, what happens is that I do a complete circuit of the station, including Platforms 9-11, checking out each and every one of the outlets on offer (I know the menues pretty much back to front in most of them, but if you're going to play, you might as well play by the rules). This kills about 10 minutes (my trains are every half hour, and if I miss one it's inevitably only by a minute or so - often I get to watch it pulling out the platform - so I generally have about 25 minutes on my hands). Having carried out a thorough audit, I then conduct an inventory of the coins in my wallet. For some reason, it always comes to 93p.

Then comes the really exciting part - or the hard part, depending on my mood and whether I've been drinking:the decision! Now, 93p doesn't stretch very far on the modern day sation consourse, so it invariably comes down to a straight choice between a chocolate bar and a cereal bar, or possibly one of those oaty things witha yoghurt topping that look like something you'd feed a hamster. Generally, I plump for a well-known brand of cereal bar of which I have a plentiful supply at home, thus ensuring that I can beat myself up on 2 counts - frittering away money which could be spent on something more important, and frittering it away on something I could have brought with me from home if only I'd had the foresight. No matter, I always get a real buzz of the kind that only such wicked indulgence can provide. It's good to get excited by little things.

If I ever find that I have more than a pound's worth, I shall probably need to lie down in a darkened room.