I remember it well, though it must have been decades ago when I was a pensioner selling buns down by my little stall on the corner. Every morning, Id stand there rain or shine, offering my fresh bakers buns to passers-by. That day, two smartly dressed gentlemen approached sharp suits, polished shoes, one even had a leather briefcase. They had the air of men who fancied themselves somebody important, but from the look in their eyes, I sensed something amiss the moment they crossed the street toward me.
Good morning, madam, one greeted me with the polished grin of a salesman about to slip his hand into your pocket while wishing you a splendid day. Are you the owner of this establishment?
Thats right, love. Would you fancy a bun? Theyve just come out of the oven. Still warm.
No, thank you. Thats not why were here. Your stall happens to be in an area of high commercial value, and youll need to get your proper paperwork in order.
At that, my suspicions were confirmed. Still, I decided to play along as the daft old lady.
Oh, love, in order… I can barely keep my sugar levels in order these days. Diabetes, blood pressure through the roof, and only yesterday the doctor told me my cholesterol is fit to burst. Have you got cholesterol? Because if so, Ive got just the tablets for you
Madam, we only need you to sign he tried to cut in.
Now, dont interrupt your elders, its terribly rude. As I was saying, these pills puffed me up like a balloon at a village fete. And my poor daughter, shes going through a divorce, bless her heart. Her husband turned out to be an utter layabout, just like my late first husbandrest his soul. Though to be truthful, he was no different when alive
At this, the second man lost patience and pulled out some forms.
Madam, this is a serious matter. Theres a fine of five thousand pounds, and
Five thousand?! Oh, my dear boy, I can barely scrape together enough for rent as it is. Do you even know what they charge for gas these days? And electricity! My youngest grandsonwants to be a vet, though hes still in schooltells me, Gran, dont run that boiler so much. But at my age, cold water just wont do. These old bones ache
Please, could you just listen
No, you listen to me now. Do you have any idea what its like selling buns at sixty-eight? My pension doesnt even stretch to the medicine I need. Got arthritis in my knees, hands, neck sometimes the pain keeps me up all night. Im here every dayrain, snow, or sunbecause if I dont come, I cant eat. And now you stand there and ask for five thousand pounds? Youd best hope I dont collapse in front of you and make a scene.
The two exchanged worried glances. They were sweating by then.
We we might be able to arrange an instalment plan, one stammered.
Instalments? Oh, Ive got instalments with the bank, the chemist, the grocereven my neighbour, for my false tooth. Know how much one tooth runs? Three thousand pounds! And thats at the public dentist!
The man quickly gathered his forms together.
Oh, dont go just yet, I havent finished. My sisters on dialysis, do you know what that means? Three times a week, four hours a go, tethered to a machine. Its grim. Insurance doesnt cover half of it. We all pitch in, all of us siblings, but out of these buns I still scrape together a hundred pounds a month to help her out. And nowa fine? For what? Ive all my paperwork in order, licensed by the council, registered, I pay my taxesgranted, not much, as I dont earn much. Ive even got my health card. Would you like to see?
I dug around in my battered purse, bursting with slips and papers.
See here! My permits valid through next yearsigned and stamped. And you two, which department did you say youre from?
They began backing away.
Oh, you didnt say? Thats odd. Because, while I may be retired, Im no fool. Before I started selling buns, I spent thirty-five years working in the council offices myselfright in the licensing division, no less. I know exactly who has the authority to demand what, and I also know a real inspector doesnt turn up in a dodgy suit asking for cash on the sly.
And another thingthe corner here is covered by CCTV. My son-in-laws a police officer, arranged this spot for me because its safe. Shall I ring him? Hes only a couple of streets away.
At that, the pair nearly took to their heels.
No, madam, theres been a misunderstanding
Take some buns for the road! I called after them. Proof I bear no grudges!
My regular, Mrs Peterson, was wiping tears from her eyes, she was laughing so hard.
You kept those chancers prattling for half an hour!
The best part, I told her, is half of it was fibs. I dont have diabetes, my daughters just fine, and my sisters fighting fit. But those trickstersthey think if youre old and poor, you must be daft as well.
And your police officer son-in-law?
Thats the truth. Sos the camera. And most of all, my paperwork. Because being poors one thingbeing stupids another. I sell buns because the pensions are pitiful, not because I lack sense.
I handed her her usual, extra sugar on top, and got on with my day.
And I ask youdoes being hard up make a person an easy mark, or are experience and wit worth more than any certificate?
