I Called The Law But The.. Law Did Nothing.

So last night I arrived at my flats after a particularly gruelling and dull shift and noticed something a mite peculiar:

Two figures were hunched over a scooter which is always chained up in the car park. The first thing that struck me as odd was that I'd only ever seen a woman use the scooter. I had to quite literally walk directly up to them as the scooter is parked next to the entry gate. I actually had to ask one of them if I could get passed - he looked like I'd just pulled a gun on him. This probably should have been my second warning signal, but I was tired and the music from a party across the road was booming - I was imagining how long it might keep me awake for.

As I ascended the steps I thought again about the two youths bent over the scooter and my brain registered a small warning light which had begun to blink in my subconscious. I decided to try and capture whatever was happening on camera in case this was, indeed, something illegal and I would need to present evidence to a jury (my imagination runs far quicker than my actual brain..), but as I was trying to find the zoom function on my camera (still struggling with that one) they both bolted. This all seemed very odd so I called 101 (this is the police non-emergency number in case anyone is unaware. It comes with a handy greeting explaining that if the call is about an emergency, that the caller should hang up and dial 999. You know, to stop all of those mugging victims and heart attacks from clogging up the line dedicated to ASBOs and missing cats.)

The operator took the details and asked for the registration of the vehicle in question, which gave me a chance to examine the bike further. It turns out the would-be master criminals had stolen the battery, which I informed the coppers of, and I was told that an officer would follow up on the report within the next 60 minutes.

I hadn't heard anything (apart from the relentless partying from across the road) after an hour and a half so I called to make a noise complaint and check on the status of the report. I was informed that a) they couldn't do anything about the noise as this was the council's duty and then b) an officer had inspected the vehicle and found no problems. I was amazed. Had the burglars been suddenly struck by crippling guilt and compassion? Had they merely replaced the panel to cover their tracks? I didn't know. I was tired and there was loud music playing and them damned kids were out on the street and I felt about 50.

However opportunity, as is her way, knocks at the most convenient and odd times. And often in really awkward ways. This was one of her crowning moments. She let two wasps into my room whilst I was on the phone. That bitch. I hate wasps. But how to get rid of them? Far to agile for the ok' glass and paper trick, much to painful to smack between the palms.. what's that? In the kitchen you say? Raid, eh? That'll do it! And it did, although the raid seemed about as old as I felt so the 'kills in seconds' promise was rather hopeful. What actually happened was the damned thing flew around my room in a frenzy then dive bombed my bed. And then managed to roll onto the floor. And under my discarded trousers. Although at this point it didn't matter as the ol' cup n' paper trick worked just fine.

I decided to eject the offending, slowly dying insects out of the front door for fear of inviting their friends in should I open the window. This then gave me a completely valid excuse to descend the three flights of stairs and walk across the car park to examine the apparently fine scooter. Which was as I'd last seen it: battery missing, gaping hole in the footboard. The Met Police really shining there. So I did the sensible thing, and the only appropriate thing to do at 4am. I left a note. It went along the lines of this...

Hi, my name's Adam and I didn't do this. But I did see it happen and reported it to the police. Here's the call reference and my number in case I can be of any more use. Sorry about all this.

Apparently this was well-received, as I spoke to her this evening as she wanted to thank me for leaving the note, apparently not many people would have done this. We also discussed how desperate someone must be to steal a moped battery, an item which sells brand new for under £30. London, eh?

Let this be a lesson, minions: always leave a note when you witness a crime. A small act can make a big difference.

July's Special: Rainbows!

I feel as it approaches the end of July I should keep up to date with my monthly blog posting. And in all honesty, plenty has happened since my last post.

I had a birthday, which was delightful. I celebrated over the course of about a week, starting with a weekend away with Charlotte at a spa somewhere near a power station in the Midlands.. that's all I remember really, but the stay was excellent. Food included, spa facilities included, and I even treated myself to a massage (t'was my birthday after all). The day before my birthday I had dinner with Richard and James at Camden's Blues Bar (excellent food, I highly recommend the beef ribs). On the day itself I celebrated by hosting a charity pub quiz at work, which was met with great enthusiasm and general good feelings. I also saw Sarah as she joined me for a drink after the quiztivities. I'm sure I did some other things but this was a month ago so forgive my memory.

No sooner had that passed then it became July and as if by magic (or careful planning on my part) my mother and Charlotte arrived in London for a week of tourism and relaxation. Both of the aforementioned happened in abundance, with a sprinkling of stress in the form of a very important envelope I recovered from my previous accommodation. Said envelope contained some important documents with the instructions to fill in, sign, and return by special delivery to 've receive d no more than 5 days after the initial postmark. I was already 3 days late. Frantically I scribbled with one hand whilst searching for a nearby post office with the other. I made it just as the counter staff were discussing closing (they even turned away people who joined the queue after me) and all was well with the world.

One of the highlights of having a parent visit you in your home city is the ability to go out on the town. In our case, a West End show. This time, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels at The Savoy ("The Savoy!" Mother exclaimed, "we're seeing a musical at The Savoy Theatre! How wonderful!"). The show was excellent, a true call back to music hall classics of a bygone era, featuring some excellent acting and singing by an all-star cast. I would highly recommend it if you can get discounted tickets (ours were down from £115 to £40 each. Well, it is The Savoy!)

After that July has sort of just trundled along. Oh, other than the obvious joy of going to York for Sam's surprise party, an excellent affair arranged by very clever Holly saw us hiding in closets and airing cupboards awaiting a very confused Sam, wondering aloud why his living room had been cleaned and decorated. We spent most of the weekend playing Mario Kart on Sam's new WiiU. By the end of it I was actually doing quite well! Except on Rainbow Road..

Everybody hates Rainbow Road...