The Rotherham Bugle

It’s a phenomenon that has baffled some of the smartest brains in Rotherham – why do old people queue up outside post offices before opening time on pension day, when they could simply have a lay in and pick their money up later?

Well now our undercover investigation has revealed the answer, and solved another mystery at the same time – where on God’s earth do they get all the shit and general tat that clutters up their houses?

As part of the investigation, our reporter was disguised as a pensioner, complete with flat hat and Werther’s Originals, and joined the queue at 8.30am at a local post office which we can’t name for legal reasons. Once in the queue, which was already ten deep, he engaged in general chit chat with other pensioners, at one point almost blowing his cover when he said something positive about young people. But he quickly moved on to the safer ground of immigrants, gypsies, benefits cheats and the inefficiency of the doctor’s surgery appointments system, and waited until the doors were opened at 9.00am, at which point everyone shuffled in.

Once inside, the postmaster handed out the pension cash and then looked around furtively before ushering those assembled through a door into a back room. Once in there, the door was locked, and a sheet which had been covering a large trestle table was pulled away to reveal an array of ‘Pensioner Porn Products’ including lace doilies, tasselled lamp shades and the type of shit pot ornaments you thought were last available as prizes in seafront bingo halls in the 1970’s.

“They were like tramps on chips.” said our reporter who observed at a safe distance for fear of getting crushed in the stampede, before buying one of those pill boxes with all the days printed on them, in an attempt to maintain his cover. “Within 10 minutes, they’d blown all their pension money, and were staggering out into the street under the weight of all the stuff they’d bought. It was a feeding frenzy”

Most pensioners were unwilling to speak on record when we called back to the post office this week, but we did get a brief comment from one Octogenarian as he struggled to the car with a tacky gilt framed reproduction of Constable’s Hay Wain and a Bradford Exchange novelty cuckoo clock.  “You’ve no idea how hard it is to fill your house up with garbage like this these days.”  he said “But I just keep thinking of the despairing look on the house clearance blokes face when I drop off the perch, and it brings a smile to my face. It’s what keeps me going.”