Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cPXB7-0000TH-IQ for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Fri, 06 Jan 2017 08:15:41 -0800 Received: from [192.3.206.228] (port=37834 helo=thegrantedoffers.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cPXB1-0000Rb-V7 for lojban@lojban.org; Fri, 06 Jan 2017 08:15:40 -0800 Date: Fri, 06 Jan 2017 09:40:32 -0700 Message-ID: <950773225.c2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeedhf12380166dlojban@lojban.org953p> To: Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Mime-Version: 1 Subject: You're New Year e.rewards ending this weekend, (12380166) From: Macys-Reward X-Spam-Score: 1.8 (+) X-Spam_score: 1.8 X-Spam_score_int: 18 X-Spam_bar: + X-Spam-Report: Spam detection software, running on the system "stodi.digitalkingdom.org", has NOT identified this incoming email as spam. The original message has been attached to this so you can view it or label similar future email. If you have any questions, see the administrator of that system for details. Content preview: major offers granted Dear lojban@lojban.org, You received a Macys-reward card Celebrate the New Year in style by picking up amazing items for 2017 for the entire family. [...] Content analysis details: (1.8 points, 5.0 required) pts rule name description ---- ---------------------- -------------------------------------------------- 1.0 FROM_OFFERS From address is "at something-offers" 0.0 URIBL_BLOCKED ADMINISTRATOR NOTICE: The query to URIBL was blocked. See http://wiki.apache.org/spamassassin/DnsBlocklists#dnsbl-block for more information. [URIs: thegrantedoffers.com] -0.0 SPF_PASS SPF: sender matches SPF record -0.0 SPF_HELO_PASS SPF: HELO matches SPF record 1.2 DEAR_EMAIL BODY: Message contains Dear email address 0.0 HTML_FONT_LOW_CONTRAST BODY: HTML font color similar or identical to background 0.7 MIME_HTML_ONLY BODY: Message only has text/html MIME parts -1.9 BAYES_00 BODY: Bayes spam probability is 0 to 1% [score: 0.0000] 0.0 HTML_MESSAGE BODY: HTML included in message 0.8 RDNS_NONE Delivered to internal network by a host with no rDNS 0.0 T_REMOTE_IMAGE Message contains an external image major offers granted
Dear lojban@lojban.org, You received a Macys-reward card

Celebrate the New Year in style by picking up amazing items for 2017 for the entire family.

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Chapter 10 Tales of Two Cities reet outside the d cut through me like a scalpel. It pinched. I felt Bobs midriff curling itself even tighter than usual around my neck. I dreaded having to wait at the bus stop for half an hour, but fortunately our regular service appeared within a few minutes and Bob and I were soon on board. Feeling a warmth on the back of my leg from a heater lifted my spirits briefly. But things soon took a turn for the worse. Wed barely been on the road for ten minutes when I noticed the first flakes of snow swirling around outside. At first they were few and far between, but within what seemed like a few moments, the air was thick with chunky, white flakes that I could see were already sticking to the pavement and the roofs of parked cars.
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There have to be easier ways of earning a crust than this, I told myself in the warmth of the bus. Making money was so hard, especially because the gap between those that had it and those that didnt was grog ever greater. Working on the streets of London really was a tale of two cities, as I was reminded again a few days later. I was standing just outside the concourse of Angel tube station with Bob on my shoulders around lunchtime, when I noticed a bit of a commotion going on inside at the ticket gate where passengers emerged from the trains below. A group of people were having an animated conversation with the attendants. When it was over they were let through seemingly without paying and started heading in our direction. I recognised the large, slightly scruffy, blondhaired figure at the centre of the group immediately. It was the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson. He was with a , his son I assumed, and a small group of smartlydressed assistants. They were marching straight towards my exit. I didnt really have time to think so I just reacted instinctively as he approached me. How about a Big Issue, Boris? I said, waving a magazine in the air. Im in a bit of a rush, he said, looking flustered. Hold on. To his credit he started digging around in his pockets and produced a pile of coins which he then proceeded to drop into my hands. There you go. More valuable than British pounds, he said. I didnt understand what he meant but was grateful nevertheless. Thanks very much indeed for supporting Bob and me, I said, handing him a magazine. As he took it, he smiled and tilted his head slightly at Bob. Thats a nice cat youve got there, he said. Oh yes, hes a star, hes even got his own travelcard so he can travel around, I said. Amazing. Really, he said, before heading off in the direction of Islington Green with his entourage. Good luck, Boris, I said as he disappeared from view. I hadnt wanted to be rude and check what hed given me a moment or two earlier, but, judging by the weight and number of the coins, it felt way more than the cover price of the magazine. That was generous of him wasnt it, Bob? I said, fishing around for the coins which Id hurriedly stuffed in my jacket pocket. As I looked at the small pile of cash, however, my heart sank. The coins all bore the mark Confoederatio Helvetica. Oh no, Bob, I said. He gave me bloody Swiss Francs. It was only then that the penny dropped, as it were. Thats what he meant when he said more valuable than British pounds, I muttered to myself. Except, of course, they werent more valuable. It obviously hadnt occurred to him that, while foreign bank notes can be exchanged at most banks and bureaux de change, coins cannot. They were, effectively, worthless. To me, at least. One of our friends at the tube station, Davika, passed by a moment or two later. Saw you with Boris, James, she smiled. Did he see you all right? No he didnt as a matter of fact, I said. He gave me a pile of Swiss Francs. She shook her head. Thats the rich for you, she said. They live on a different planet from the rest of us. I just nodded quietly in agreement. It wasnt the first time something like this had happened to me. A few years earlier, Id been busking in Covent Garden. It had been approaching 7.30pm, curtainup time at most of the theatres and opera houses in the area, and a lot of people were breaking into a panicky trot as they emerged from the tube station. Unsurprisingly, few of them had any time to notice me strumming away with Bob at my feet, but one particularly flustered looking character in a bow tie did acknowledge me. He saw me from a few yards away and instantly dug into his pocket. He was a very grand looking character with a mane of grey hair. I could have sworn I recognised him from the television, but couldnt place him. When I saw him reach into his trouser pocket and pull out a scrunched up note, I thought my luck was in. It was red and looked all the world like a big denomination, possibly a £50 note. That was the only note I knew that had red in it. There you go, my man, he said, thrusting it into my hand as he slowed down for a brief moment. Cheers. Thanks very much indeed, I said. Have a good evening, he said, laughing as he picked up speed again and ran towards the Piazza. I had no idea why he was laughing. I assumed he was in a good mood. I waited a few minutes until the crowds had died down a little before recovering the scrunched up note out of my pocket. It didnt take me long to work out that it wasnt a £50 note. As Id thought, it was red, but it had a picture of a bearded bloke Id never seen before on it. It had the number 100 written on it. The writing was in some kind of Eastern European language. The only word that looked familiar was Srbije. I had no idea what it was or what it might be worth. It might have been more than £50 for all I knew. So I packed up my stuff and headed for a Bureau de Change the other side of the Piazza which I knew was open late for tourists. Hi, can you tell me what this is worth, please? I said to the who was behind the dow. She looked at it and gave me a puzzled look. Dont recognise it, hold on, let me check with someone else, she said. She went into a back office where I could see an older bloke sitting. After a short confab she came back. Apparently its Serbian, its 100 Serbian dinar, she said. OK, I said. Can I exchange it? Lets see what its worth, she said tapping away at a computer and then a calculator. Hmmm, she said. That comes out at just over 70p. So we wouldnt be able to exchange it. I felt disappointed. Id secretly hoped that it might be enough money to get me and Bob through the weekend. Fat chance. There were times when I got really depressed by the predicament I found myself in. I had turned 30. The majority of guys of my age had a job or a car, a home and a pension plan, maybe even a wife and a few n. I had none of those things. Part of me didnt actually want them, truth be told. But I did yearn for the security that some of those things brought. I was fed up with living off my wits on the streets. And I was fed up with being humiliated by those who had absolutely no concept of nor sometimes any sympathy for the life I was having to lead. There were times when I felt like I was close to breaking point. A few days after that incident with the Mayor, I felt like I had reached it.