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He was never my real Uncle

K

Kandor

Guest
There is a chain of shops we call 'Uncles'
'Uncles' is a nice friendly sounding name that overwrites all the strain and stress that people using them these days must undoubtably go through.
If you think about it, the people who use such shops need money rather quickly and have few other places to explore.
I also think there is a small minority who use such places to get rid of 'unearned items'
We of that certain age remember them as Pawn shops, but the story I'm afraid, stays the same.
I remember we took our Dads suit every week to our local Pawnshop,
We did it out of neccessity, we had a wild eating fetish in those days and the pittance from Dads suit helped us achieve it.
I was talking with my sister last week (she came over cos I was a bit poorly)
She told me it wasn't just Dads suit we pawned but also a thing known as a 'Bundle'
A bundle was made up of Shirts, trousers, loose collars, anything we could do without really.
Norma said for this we got one shilling and sixpence.
How desperate were we that we did that for one and a tanner?
I truly dread to think.
It takes me back once more to thinking of the 'Good old days'
Perhaps they should be called 'I really cant remember, how bad they were days'
It seems to me we shared an unrelenting poverty made up of poor food, bad housing and a standard of living we'd scream blue murder at if we had to endure these days.
Yes of course the people were lovely, they were both exceptional and warm, I guess adversity made us that way.
We relied on each other, leaned on each other and we shared each others joy and heartbreak.
We did it simply because it made our lot, that little bit easier to bear.
I dont remember bundles...silly really, as for me, it was just another lesson in that long road we call life.
Been there, done that.
 
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