Well it turns out that Terry, our ex-SAS/Black Ops/Poundland IL-4 killing machine has not actually rubbed out Spare Change Guy after all. No, the local Police have decided that our town would be heaps better off without any beggars importuning strangers and generally making the place look untidy, so they've rounded them all up.
Spare Change Guy was inoffensive enough, never actually asked for money – unlike that other guy. That other guy who dresses in a suit, has what looks like a corporate ID hanging round his neck and gives out a sob story of being stranded so please could you spare a quid for the phone? Yeah, that guy! Soft-hearted numbskull that I am, I believed him and gave him some money. Next day, I run into him again, playing exactly the same script word for word. It's enough to give beggars a bad name. I suppose I should admire his ingenious use of costume and props, but I'm too small-minded and bitter to do that.
I don't mind begging as such, it's a hard world out there, but I won't be made a fool of. Spare Change Guy was pleasant and friendly and always wished us a good day even if we didn't give him anything (I actually did on a few occasions - soft-hearted numbskull, remember?). But Fake Stranded Guy is just annoying and deceitful, so let's hope the cops swept him up good.
In other news, the word is that we are all to be given a second laptop to do our super-secret IL-4 work on. Niiiiice. I like to walk the three-and-a-half miles to work, so now I'll have to carry two computers on my back. Plus, the IL-4 laptop has to be kept in a lockable metal box when not in use. That's going to be heavy and a tad awkward to fit in my backpack, methinks.
Maybe I could hire one of these beggars to be my porter. Not Fake Stranded Guy though. No job for him, the toe-rag.