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Stories
The Great Sanwich Rinse
At the age of 11, the boyz and I were in our heyday of scandle. As a crew of 11 year olds, we probably broke more laws than at any other time in our entire lives. Many of the times are worth a story, but today I am going to tell you of the great cheese sandwich scam.
Across the road from the Manor temple where we all went to school, there was devotee owned health food shop that also had large amounts of sweets, specifically fireballs. Large amounts of money was spent in that shop (... well... relative to our age that is...) but the funds we could get our hands on was never enough to satisfy our need for the sweets, chocolate... drinks.. and what ever else beat eating the slop they surved during squash and pumkin season at the Manor. Well, lack of funding was the last thing that could stand in the way of a bunch of resourceful lads like us rudeboyz. Between us... we came up with a fool proof plan that would end our cashflow needs in that store forever.
Now, the store was staffed by just one mataji at any given time, one lady, by herself, to run the little shop. Should have been enough, and was, for all people but the bunch of rippers that we were. The store used to make some killer cheese sandwiches, fresh bread, lettuce, tomato and some killer cheese, all lightly toasted into perfection. Why is this important? Well, as I said ... there was only ever one person manning the store at any given time, and to make the sandwiches she had to go into the back of the store, completely out of the front area that contained all the products. The sandwiches were fairly expensive... a couple of quid was a fortune in them days, but some how we used to scrape up the money to get one. Why would a bunch of lads want to pitch in to get just one sandwich questions between them? Well.. that was a question that perhaps the store owner should have asked herself isn't it...? Shame is... She didn't.
Basically... the scam went as follows. The crew would pile into the shop... (you know who you are...respect to all!) .. we would order the one sandwich... wait for the lady to go into the back of the shop... and wip out our back packs. The backpacks were quickly opened, and whole boxes and cartons of sweet lovely crap (drinks, sweets, crisps, film etc.) would be piled in. Not one or two, but whole boxes worth. What would happen now you might ask? Did we run out of the store? Did we make a get away with the goods safely stuck in our back packs? Wot did you fink we was a pack of amatures? No.. we waited, waited for the lady to return, paid for our sandwich, thanked her for it's delicious taste, and went calmly out and on our way. THAT is how it is done in style. This went on for time... it was a perfect plan. Again and again we would stock up on the items to fule the energy levels needed to be a rude boy back in the day, and the supply seemed limitless.
Time went on... we got older, stopped going to the Manor school and basically people went our seperate ways. Years had gone by... and although the rinses had stopped happening, that that day no one had figured out how the inventory was going missing... and who was nik'in it!
I moved back to Leicester eventually... and went on with my life... untill one afternoon I overheard my dad on the phone... someone had finally squeeled! After all these years... after time had gone by and those days were only a sweet memory... someone had spilled the beans! The jig was up... but it still remained one of the most perfect rinses in history!
PS. I just want to say, that the person who narked on us had better hope it never gets out! I am never one to hold a grudge, but the shit we got into because of that nark basically got him in the black book of the Crew from that day forth!
This story is copyright of The Author © 2001
by Nitai Hayton
(nhayton@hotmail.com)
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