WTF? I arrived in London five hours ago and now I have no money left

The strangest thing happened to me today. Just a few hours ago I was stepping off my plane, excited to start my new life in London. But now, for some strange reason, I have no money left…

The mystery began when I arrived at Heathrow. I went directly to the train station to buy a ticket to the city centre. To my surprise, it cost “Like triple what you’d expect a stupid train ticket to cost.” But I coughed up anyway.

When I arrived at Waterloo, I asked the conductor if my ticket from the airport was also valid for the tube. He spat in my eye, said “Fuck you!” then charged me “Whoah, WHAT?!” amount of pounds for a weekly ticket. But I coughed up anyway.

I was busting, so before my train I scurried off to the toilet to take a quick leak. Unbeknownst to me, there was a barrier blocking my entrance. To get through to the cubicle, I had to insert “Not that much, but seriously I can’t believe you have to fucking pay for this” into the coin slot. But I coughed up anyway.

After 75 minutes and several changes, I arrived at my destination in Zone 6. It had been a stressful journey, so I popped into a Caffe Nero and ordered a medium latte. The charmless barista said “That will be an ungodly amount considering this coffee tastes like rat shit stirred into water.” But I coughed up anyway.

This was starting to get pretty annoying, but I was too hungry to notice, so I thought I’d try my luck at Pizza Express. It looked like a nice, reasonably priced establishment. I ordered a large pepperoni pizza that looked like a piece of cardboard with leprosy and somehow tasted even worse. When the bill came, it said I owed “Come on, are you actually taking the piss mate?” for my disgusting dinner and a half of lager. But I coughed up anyway.

Despite all the trials of my first day in London, I was heartened by the fact that my new place was just around the corner! I knocked on the front door and my Aussie housemate, looking paler and more depressed than I’d ever seen her, greeted me with a limp hug. She showed me to the room I would be renting for the next two years. There was a shower cubicle next to my bed. It was leaking.

An actual picture of an actual room for rent in London, taken yesterday (11/09/19). Fuck that. Picture by Sam McInerney.

Not two minutes after I’d dropped my bags on the floor, the landlord appeared, demanding the deposit and three months’ rent in advance. I asked him how much I owed him, knowing what the answer would be. He said “No worries, it’s only all the money you have left.” But I coughed up anyway…

It’s okay, though. My housemate had already found me a new job at the pub around the corner! I went down to meet the manager, who told me that I’d get six shifts a week, plus a free packet of crisps and a half of soft drink every shift. And the salary? Well, every month I’ll be earning “Not even enough to cover the rent.”

So I have no money left, but at least I get to live in one of the world’s best cities! I wonder when it’s going to stop raining though…

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