Friday, July 15, 2005

My veracity is dearer to me than my life, said the peasant; nor would I purchase the one by forfeiting the other

Though it may seem that I am on a fierce mission to remove every suggestion of principled or ethical behaviour from my person, I must tell you that I occasionally give way and reveal my soft centre. I always cry at the Concern ads on the telly, for instance. Well, once. And I was slightly tipsy at the time. And I feel REALLY bad lying to winos when they ask me do I have a spare cigarette. Really. Today though I was stretched to the outer limits of my moral... well, limits. On my way out to buy my lunch I stumbled across a crisp orange fifty Euro note on the landing. Though I am almost always broke (and not infrequently drunk- the two are related only vaguely), I did not keep the booty* but instead handed it in to the surly receptionist at our front desk. 'Oh. Thanks.' she muttered, pocketing the note. The bitch probably kept it for herself. Slag.

See? Incorruptible, so I am.

*Only after a lengthy struggle with my inner demons. 'Take it! they screamed, 'you can get druuuunk!' 'No!' squealed my conscience, 'it is wrong!' In the end I ignored them all and reasoned that it could be some kind of horrible Candid Camera prank and I would be shamed nationwide as a theiving pinchpenny. That, my friends, is called 'logical thinking'.

3 comments:

Curly said...

Very commendable, if not a little silly.

Lets just hope that no-one saw you arguing with yourself while wielding a €50 note... perhaps that will make the Candid camera show instead?

Joey*** said...

Lucy, NEVER hand in money. I worked in a cash office. It is ALWAYS pocketed by The Man. Or in your case, a skank.

Voodoolady said...

I don't know when you developed this nice streak lucy, but I don't like it