I’m sure I’ve told this story on the boards before, but, well, I’ve still not forgiven 'em.
When I was a tiny little seedling we lived near the city of Chester (pop. 70,000 ish). One year, the city decided to run a fundraising Christmas card design contest through local schools, with the 10 winners getting, iirc, £500 (a huge sum to a small child in about '91), £1000 for the school, tea with the mayor, and their card printed up and sold throughout the city.
Of course, every school entered, and we spent a happy afternoon scribbling designs featuring city landmarks and various festive designs, and they were duly sent off.
Time went on, and a few months later, my family moved Oop North, and I started at a new (tiny!) school. I’d been there a week when the head teacher (we only had two teachers) came into class looking all happy, and announced to the class that she’d just had a nice phone call about the new girl (moi) from Chester Council; apparently they’d just judged their big Christmas card contest, and my design had been announced as one of the winners!!eleven!!
She said she’d passed on my new contact details to them. So I went home, and waited for my exciting letter.
And waited.
And waited.
It was pretty much Christmas before I realised that it wasn’t going to come. I guess they decided that as I didn’t live in the area when judging took place, I was disqualified. I mean, I suppose it’s fair enough that the city council weren’t going to give money to an out of area school, but it didn’t occur to anyone to check this before phoning a school that was clearly in another county and telling them that one of their 8 year old pupils had just won more money than they’d ever seen in their life…?
It didn’t occur to any of them that, having told said 8 year old that they were going to get something amazingly awesome, that they should probably get in touch, apologise and, maybe y’know, give 'em a book token or something to make up for the mistake?
I was freakin’ 8, the difference between £500 and £5 was pretty much abstract at that point, neither was a sum I was accustomed to dealing with. My income was 50p a week at the time.
I’ve not bothered entering an art contest since.