Tuesday, April 29, 2008

C-C-Call the C-C-Cops!!!!



Hometown may sound like a picturesque haven of tranquility in the eastern shires, but I should tell you, it has it's crazy sketchy wild moments.

Take yesterday.

I was home in the afternoon as I'd had a meeting in the Bigcity in the morning and it's a long , long way back to school. My head had kindly agreed that it would just be easier if I did some paperwork at home.

So I park the car and I'm walking down our street in the middle of the day. There's a bloke looking at houses and he's looking shifty. Then he goes around the side of Big Dave's house and climbs into his garden!

My overtired midday brain sorts this one out in a heartbeat. 'He's a blagger and he's casing some gaff and he's going to nick some swag and get it to his fence and sell it to the kids and someone will get hurt and all because I never called the filth!'

So, er, that's what I did. I went indoors , peered through an upstairs window and called the cops! Not even the non-emergency community number but the real deal, 999 GETHERENOW!!!!! number.

And they came.

And in the 5 minutes that it took for them to screech into our street (although I felt they screeched appropriately, not too fast but with due haste and some caution) the blagger reemerged from behind Big Dave's house, went to his car, wrote a note, popped it through Big Dave's front letterbox. Then the evil slag of crime got into his car and drove away with all due respect for the Highway code.

Yes, that's right. Raffles had left a note in Big Dave's letterbox. The bastard! Leaving a cheeky fucking calling card! It probably said something like...
..."You've been turned over by the evil bastard of crime, light fingered Tony! I hope you'll never sleep easy in your violated home again! Suckers! catch me if you can!!!"

Or...

..."Alright Big Dave, I popped round at lunchtime but you were out. I just hope no overimaginative, paranoid, police state, nosey parker fucking neighbour with nothing else to do calls the cops just because I'm a bit scruffy. Love Tony".

Gulp.

So then the cops arrived. They were fascinated by the whole scene and quickly made the neighbourhood safe again (Thank God!). The best bit was when they screeched up. My slightly bonkers neighbour who yells alot came rushing out of her house and yelled at the cops "WHAT IS IT? I DINDOIT!" To which the policemen responded with a smile and a laugh "It's alright Lou, we're not here for you. Not this time! Ha!"
Then the three of them all stood about and had a bit of a chat and a laugh at me.

So the cops asked a few questions and cleared off.

And I had that sinking feeling that some poor sod in a black VW was now getting pulled over and given the third degree for the crime of popping round to see his old mate Big dave in the middle of the day.

Later on I took the trouble to pop round to Big Dave's house and tell them what had happened.

You know the rest.

It had been a friend.

He was a bit scruffy.

He was not the evil slag of crimeland.

I apologised but Big Dave and his wife were really pleased that "people in this great street look out for each other. It makes me proud to live here." They are possibly the nicest people in the world right now.

I'm not allowed to use the phone without asking Frau Random Doubt.

4 comments:

Maestra said...

Too Funny!!!
Hey better safe than sorry:)

Wisdom Weasel said...

Nice work. I imagine you to have acted somewhat like Charlie in Bergerac when the plod showed up: vaguely proprietorial and quite agitated.

A pig farmer over by East Harling once vaulted a wire fence and bade my Norfolk Constabulary grandfather to follow. As soon as granddad touched the fence the current zapped through him down to the hobnails in his boots, while the bor (in rubber wellies) laughed like a drain. Granddad promptly nicked him for failing to declare a case of swine fever to to the MAFF.

Moral of the story? No matter how much they laugh at you, never laugh at a copper.

Emily Fabpants said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Emily Fabpants said...

I wish you had been there when someone left £220 scattered about in the corner of my garden.

I reported it. They claimed it. They hadn't been mugged. They hadn't reported the theft. It was them in my garden.

I will never know who they were and they didn't reward me for handing it in. Not a sausage.

Trespassers should be shot.

Sorry Big Dave's friend. Bang Bang.