Huh. My penny remains friendless. A stroll into town, eyes sweeping the pavement until they hurt, yields no abandoned cash. Plenty of bloody rubbish though. I see an old lady with a physique and gait that reminds me of Nanny from Count Duckula lumber into a telephone box just to check if anybody’s left loose change in the little compartment. She has no luck.
Hmmm. But that qualifies doesn’t it? That’s forgotten money. Am definitely going to look like a weirdo if I start rummaging in phone boxes too. Oh well – this won’t work if I don’t sacrifice what little image I may have!