A few weeks ago, Housemate Claire got herself a bike.
She uses two locks to attach to the railings from inside the forecourt.
Thursday night I heard a little bit of commotion and then the gate bang.
I swear I was up, grabbed my trusty bat and was out of the door in about 10 seconds.
Bike gone and not a fucking soul to be seen.
Fucking miraculous you would think.
Not me.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned the ‘Benefit Bedsit’ house 3 doors along.
I feel the bike didn’t go far.
Being the only one in, I phoned the police.
I fecking HATE contacting the police. No need to draw attention unnecessarily is there? And as Brendan Behan said,
‘I’ve never seen a situation so dismal that it couldn’t be made worse by a policeman’.
We still have seen no police people, nor do we expect to!
(Fingers crossed)
Friday I travelled to ‘Bandit Country’ to help out our ‘5th Column’ there.
A body in the house to let in the Trades.
Last weekend a load of pissed up ‘youths’ lobbed a brick through the glass roof on Mr & Mrs Crisp-e’s conservatory.
The police found a group of pissed up ‘youths’ in the area but couldn’t be sure they were THE pissed up ‘youths’, so they were let go.
Brilliant.
Not a good couple of weeks for any of us crime wise.
Bastards.
I got a taxi there and the driver turned out to be a parent of a particularly horrible ex pupil.
He went on about the youngest, who is now at the school.
A right delight he sounds too.
"Yeah, two detentions in the first fuckin' week him! All about shoes..."
Here he went off on the usual rant.
Fortunately, we pulled up at Crisp-e's.
As I got out I leant back in and said,
'By the way your J...... was a vile, thick cunt. I'm gobsmacked he's not in prison to tell the truth! Anyway, give him my regards. Bye!"
I slammed the door and fucked off without a backwards glance.
I told Sassy about our bout of bad luck.
Her litany of punishments, which could be described as an extreme form of Liberal Despotism, fell just short of a nationwide eugenics programme!
More troubling was that it all made perfect sense to me.
4 comments:
That is a bloody horrible thing to happen, actually both of them, and both seem so personal. I can really empathise with Claire on that one. Laurecne had a bike stolen not so long ago and it`s his transport, bloody fucking bastards, it`s not like many people cycle here anyway!
Good thing no-one was sitting in the Crispies` conservatory at the time. Vile, vile, evil.
Liked the taxi story though.
Yeah, we're all proper pissed off.
Crisp-e, as you can imagine, was not a happy pixie.
I am really pissed off that the Hants Constabulary haven't been round. We pay a rather excessive amount of council tax for these punters and I'm of the mind that if we say jump they should collectively ask how high? As you said,the thieves wanted that bike and clearly came tooled up. Eventually some action is going to be needed regarding that house - whether they were responsible or not - but don't hold your breath.
I thought that my programme had a lot of merit and as you say it fell well short of eugenics so that's all right!
I have a bike - it's lovey, it's my 4th in 12 years - I won't ride it anywhere, cos it's bound to be stolen - like the rest... so it just sits in the dining room looking nice.
I rented a house once in Croydon - I left my bike outside at the back hidden under a tree - chained up. The day I moved out I took the van with all my stuff to the new house - and returned on the bus to the old house with the intention of retrieving the bike and riding it back to the new property - the landlord informed me he had 'thrown it away' because it was scratching the brickwork - cunt. He also kept my deposit because he claimed a lightswitch was dirty - not mentioning that I had decorated the house for him.
I still harbour revenge fantasies that involve evisceration.
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