Irrelevant Musings of the Everyday Human Chapter 4 Twenty Million in Cash

I’ve noticed that usually when questions involving how one would spend a Godzilla sized pile of money are raised, donations to charity seems to be the first thing that everyone mentions.  I have to reluctantly admit something. I realise by doing this I am basically injecting myself with a pure and all-consuming solution of guilt, but I have to confess a charitable donation is not the first thing the large cauliflower I call a brain would think of. The exact amount this hypothetical situation refers to is Twenty million pounds in cash. Perhaps a quarter would be provided to charity, the rest I would place towards other pursuits. A priority at least for me has to be the purchase of a fluorescent green car. If any readers experience trouble in imaging what that would look like, then I advise you to imagine a car that’s fluorescent green in colour. On the top of said car an animatronic monkey figure would be placed- and while the car was being driven it would perform rude yet undeniably amusing hand gestures at witnesses. I would also find and subsequently hire a band of clowns with the ability to shrink in size to travel, in their smallest form, in said car. They would revert to normal size when they left and allow people to watch in awe as approximately 10 clowns of normal size depart from a normal sized car that wouldn’t typically carry that many people. I would also, via such actions, answer the mystery of “How so many clowns get inside such a normal sized car”- which is of course something we all aspire towards. A notable portion of the money would also be invested in the designing and opening of a lavishly decorated club and bar- the sorts that only really exist in 1920’s America or fictional works. Said club would be decorated with a rich scarlet carpet that was never adulterated by dirt or any other potential hazards and the rest of the interior would be vaguely similar to what Oswald Cobblepot (batman’s “The Penguin”) had chosen for his iceberg lounge. This would be done completely on purpose- regulars who were familiar with the comic book world would acknowledge a resemblance and believe that just like Oswald Cobblepot I was using my club as a front for more lucrative operations. Convinced, they would report me to the police who would valiantly arrive, passionate about placing the owner of this apparent gangster’s paradise behind bars- only to discover it was not a front for crime as they suspected, but just an exceptionally cool club. Of course, a tailored suit from Saville row (I beg you not to confuse the suit company with the deceased entertainer of that surname) would be a necessity – A neutral grey tailored fit fashioned from tweed .With a shirt boasting of a paisley design and at least 3 colours; a bold yet moderately dark blue, a strong red and let’s just combine the two and throw in some purple for good measure. A tie would naturally have to play a part in this ensemble – the tie would also be paisley, this time using pink and modest yellow, the tie would be properly tied- for perhaps the first time in my life that I’ve had a tie tied properly when wearing a suit. By this time I would possess the ability to roll up numerous notes within each other. When paying for items, I would be able to gently, although authoritatively thrust them with a finesse only a truly rich person could master. I begin rhythmically pounding my foot against the concrete floor to a beat that exists only in my mind- preparing to burst into a lively and passionate rendition of ‘If I was a rich man’. I hesitate before doing this and then completely abandon the idea when I realise that the £10 I had just requested to withdraw is still waiting for me in the open ATM slot. I wonder how long that’s been there- I should take it and leave before a queue develops.