[ WP ] You have an ATM that gives you the exact amount of money you need to survive for the day , how you spend it is your choice . Today you are given $ 70,000,000 .

On the skin of the reciept was an ink tatto that unhinged my jaw. I glanced around nervously, expectling something, someone, - a technician or whatever - to stroll up to me and confirm that, yes, the ATM was dysfunctional and that, yes, my reciept showed a few extra digits that had no business being there. In my head I was rehearsing my angry, red-faced, tantrum, and was chasing down every possibility for a lawsuit down the corridors of my imagination. 
 
 A quick survey of the area rendered my initial reaction an overreaction. I also came up with two life-changing conclusions: Firstly, I need to watch less `` Suits''. Secondly, I'm a fucking millionaire. 
 
 Glancing around once more - just in case- I was met with the disdainful faces of around 15 Londoners. Everyone in the queue was of a different shade; of a different shape; of a different color. One thing they did have in common, was the fact that they all looked pretty pissed at me. 
 
 I slowly shuffled out of line: it was an awkward jerky movement, that evolved into a walk, then a slow jog, and before I knew it I was sprinting. 
 
 Seventy million. Seventy FUCKING million. 
 
 Not bad for a waiter, eh? 
 
 I dont know what that ATM was giving me all that money. I lived in Brixton, and it was dirt cheap there. Usually I'd get £50, £55. I've never broken into the hundreds. Despite my articulte and polite letters, the government never considered cocaine a `` necessity for survival and well being''. Wankers. 
 
 But fuck them. 
 
 Years of struggling to make ends meet, thats corrupted me a bit. To make rent, I had to trade my moral compass for a faultier good. Now, the north arrow was skewed, and it pointed to Cindy's. 
 
 
 
 

