Creativity

What do banks do on bank holidays? Roy Askew writes: "I suspect they withdraw to the Midlands on a black horse, stop listening altogether, keep saying `no' while watching reruns of the Loan Arranger, before retiring to a pub called `The Hole in the Wall' for a nice pint of overdraft lager with blue chips. Then they probably send postcards to all their customers and charge them pounds 25 each to read them."

Judith Holmes wants to "put them into charabancs and send them off to the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond or the banks and braes of bonnie Doon." She also says that: "agile banks can practise juggling by carrying out balancing acts with their bank books".

Sian Cole, in a rare etymological mood, has sent us a dictionary entry which mentions that an old English form of the word "bank" was "bonk". Nigel Plevin points out that a bank holiday is a commercial break without adverts. Tony Benson wants to use banks as refuges for sheepdogs on ban collie days. John and Renee Dolan suggest filling them with old newspapers and bottles. Failing that, they say: "Rob them" - an idea enlarged upon by Bruce Birchall, who advises: "Put termites through the letterbox at teatime Friday ; call back Monday midnight, break in easily and help yourself."

Jim Davie suggests adding sand to the banks to extend the beach area available to bank holiday crowds. Fiona and John Earle are worried that if the World Bank has a bank holiday it will last longer than a day because of the different time zones.

Allan Sykes was one of many readers who sought inspiration in A Midsummer Night's Dream; his conclusion was that banks have a wild thyme on their holidays. Mike Gifford, however, saw the line about "a bank whereon the wild thyme blows" as an indication of a rather undisciplined punch-up. He also suggests using them for weddings, with oaths sworn in front of a cash register: "Till, death us do part", but points out that as it usually rains on bank holidays, they could be used for sheltered accommodation.

Maguy Higgs has produced a sort of extended limerick:

When a bank has a holiday due,

There's a number of things it can do:

It can dress up in cheques

with a draft round its neck

And forming an orderly queue,

Wait 'til Open at Ten at the zoo."

She also points out that wherever a bank goes on a bank holiday, it'll come back laughing all the way ...

"If they were to seek alternative employment," Daniel Holloway says, "they would be doing a bank job." He also has the practical suggestion to: "lock Creativity contributors in the safe with only a tin of sardines, a panama hat and a packet of polos to get them out." Stephen Kirin thinks that on holidays, banks visit their friends and relations: bottle bank, sperm bank and the river bank.

Norman Foster provides rules of a game that may be played in banks which involves two teams, one called "Counters", the other "Queues" in which the contestants in Queues must run up and touch the Counters one at a time before the counter is removed, which generally happens just before a shout of "Next". Mr Foster used to play this with his aunt Tessa, though she currently needs a bit of a pep up.

Marilyn Johnson says: "Deposit them on some donkeys and wait with interest to see how Blackpool copes with all the banks and brays." She charged us pounds 50 for her letter, too.

Chambers Dictionary prizes to Roy Askew, Marilyn Johnson (if she'll promise to put the pounds 50 back into our current account) and Judith Holmes.

Next week, we shall be thinking of things to do with an ethical foreign policy. Meanwhile, we cannot help wondering what Creativity contributors would do with a tin of sardines, a Panama hat and a packet of polos. All ideas will be welcome at Creativity, The Independent, 1 Canada Square, Canary Wharf, London E14 5DL.