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Six deliciously disappointed twats on Antiques Roadshow

ON Antiques Roadshow? You’re expecting life-changing amounts of money, don’t lie. These are the disappointments we savour when it’s worth nothing but YouTube views: 

The skip diver

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, specifically his. He can’t pass a skip without rescuing a painting he’s convinced will buy him an outdoor sauna and hot tub he’s already had quotes for. ‘At auction I estimate perhaps £150,’ the expert says, and his face collapses and in his eyes you can almost see the hot tub being repossessed.

The twentysomething with grandpa’s medals

Great-grandad fought in the war so that must mean a cash payout, right? His descendant, who barely knows his name, says he just wants to know the value for insurance purposes and, y’know, maybe a fortnight in Ibiza? Told their value he nods, crushed, saying they’re priceless anyway and he could never sell them. Not at £15 each he f**king can’t.

The hopeful bargain-hunter

Turns up with mass-produced modern silver bullshit jewellery too ugly to wear. A bit of green on the finger is fine, it came from a car-boot sale so it’s probably vintage Tiffany. Better melted down for scrap value, it transpires. Its owner nods, mentally threatening that bitch on the stall who sold it to her for £8.50.

The family heirloom liquidator

Aunt Christine claims those glasses are Lalique crystal, that they were a wedding gift, and they’re worth thousands. But it turns out they’re those glasses you got for free with petrol in the 70s and a guest fobbed her off. The present turned out to be as much of a con as the marriage. Better sneak them back into the cupboard.

The bright-eyed hopeful

He found this in a charity shop, priced at just 50p, and he knows the first appearance of Spider-Man is worth £32,000. His sharp eyes and shrewd negotiating skills have made him a fortune! Until he’s informed Spectacular Spider-Man 145 is only worth three quid in good condition, and this isn’t. Cue bitter rant that you can’t even trust Oxfam.

The guy who spent a fortune

One way to get on the show is spend shitloads and then say innocently on camera that you too were surprised to find a Romanov treasure in a Basildon car park. Because morons love to believe they’ve tricked the experts. Then they’re told this isn’t a Fabergé egg but a cheap fake. ‘I just liked the design anyway,’ they lie while we laugh.

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'We can't visit your parents this weekend, I drive a diesel': how to turn the crisis to your advantage

BOUGHT a diesel car seven years ago, for fuel efficiency? Now being gouged at the pumps? Turn the crisis to your advantage by skipping out on these: 

Visiting your partner’s family

“Look, you know how I was looking forward to seeing your mum and dad, and that dog they have that leaps up at you, and sitting there until well after 9pm when you know I’ve got work the next morning waiting for the end of an interminable anecdote about Uncle Roy disputing his council tax. But it’s just not economical.”

Taking the kids to cricket practice

“It’s an absolute tragedy that our nine-year-old will miss out on a full morning’s cricket this Sunday. After all he doesn’t enjoy it, I hate the cricket dads, and even if he were to turn pro it’s hardly a lucrative career. However it’s just not worth the £9.92 it would cost. Maybe we should never go back.”

Doing the big shop

“I would never voluntarily give up trailing around Tesco with you. That Sunday morning shop is the highlight of my weekend. However with the price of diesel it doesn’t make economic sense. We’ll give ordering online a go. We risk liking it so much we no longer sacrifice an hour of weekend to shopping, but we have no option.”

Going to the cinema

“God it hurts me, not going to see Digger on the big screen. I mean the reviews are lacklustre and the trailer looked bad but who cares? Now, though? The cost-benefit ratio makes it unsupportable. We’ll have to stay in and watch Netflix instead. I’ve poured myself a large gin, to cope.”

Attending work

“Sorry, I can’t make it in today. Why? Have you not seen the news? It’s 22 miles to the office, I can’t be doing that kind of mileage. It wouldn’t be worth me working with what it would cost. I’m afraid I’ll be working entirely from home until further notice.”

Leaving the house at all

“Yes technically we’re not using any diesel by going for a walk. But with the Mad Max-style fuel wars Herefordshire has been plunged into, leaving my car unattended on the drive is practically inviting roving gangs of leather-clad siphoners to take advantage. I’ll stay here. Yes this is another large gin. Well, because of diesel.”

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