The fun never stops around here. 10B and I have now each retired to our respective pooters to calm down a little before bed.
I blame knitting. If it hadn't been for me finally feeling a bit more on top of fair-isle, we'd have been tucked up in bed and oblivious but instead 10B was dozing on the couch while I triumphantly completed round after round of the Tam of Rassilon. (Actually, it's not going that well. But it's not as shite as it was.)
Eventually I forced myself to put the knitting down, turn off the telly and get ready for bed. I'd heard a noise outside which sounded suspicously like a cat howl and thought I should check that OutsideCat wasn't in a cat fight, so I hauled my lazy bum out of the chair. I noted more noise like banging of metal and not at all like a cat fight - it sounded like something was happening in the laneway. I walked into the hallway and looked down the hallway through the back window to see Some Guy in our backyard.
He was by the shed door (the shed light was on) and clearly quite physically alert.
I couldn't see what he was doing, but I figured he was up to no good.
I shouted at 10B, who was asleep on the couch. I briefly apprised him of the situation, said he should call the police and ran to the back door, watching while this figure seemed to shimmy up into the air onto the shed roof (he was, of course, climbing up one of our many piles of stuff, it's just that I don't climb around our yard as much as I would if I were healthy so I tend to forget just how much good climbing is to be had out there if you're agile. Quite a lot of good climbing, now that I think about it. I may give more thought to this fact at a later stage if/when I need more physical challenge in my life). I turned on the outside light and flung open the back door while 10B, coming up behind me, said *I* should call the police.
(It's always me that has to call the cops, I don't know why. *grumble*)
By this time the figure had scarpered over our shed roof into the lane behind. So I ran and got the phone while 10B went into the yard, and I joined him out there while explaining to the police that someone had been in our yard ....and...bugger me Officer, but he's climbing through a window into the flat behind us. On the first floor.
Agile and/or highly motivated. And probably not the guy who lives there because I'm pretty sure that guy would have just gone through the door if he were in such a hurry to get inside.
(And FWIW, I only saw the current tenant for the first time today, although he has a nodding acquaintance with 10B - 10B has at least a nodding acquaintance with everyone round here - and he certainly didn't strike me as the sort of guy that would be inclined to break into his own home via cyclone wire fence, drainpipe and skillion roof. At least, not so fast or efficiently as this person was moving. I imagine he'd fiddle a lot and get distracted).
So 10B and I flap our arms around for a bit. It's hard to know what to do at this point in time, we just sort of stand and walk around and look around a lot. I pop out the front and wave at a police car that turns up. They know nothing about our call, but are looking for Some Guy and his mates, apparently.
Our neighbour comes out and politely asks them to see to the man in his driveway please. He is quite concerned.
There's a guy in our neighbour's driveway who can't stand up. This guy shall now be known as Bazza.
I tell them I'm a bit worried about the fact that the flat behind us appears to now contain an intruder. They are surprisingly uninterested but I'm pushy and more cars have arrived, so the cop in charge sends a younger cop to have a look. On the way round, the nice young policeman tells me that before any calls came in from concerned citizens (ie - us and our neighbour) they'd been attempting to stop three guys in a car that was swerving all over the road. They succeeded, in that the car stopped and the three guys decided to proceed on foot, at speed and not along your more pedestrian footpaths.
Bazza, the one now in our neighbour's driveway, broke something while jumping the fence.
So the sound like OutsideCat being in a catfight was, in fact, Bazza saying "Oooh now that's going to hurt when I'm sober. Actually, it's already quite sore now".
Which is really rather awful. And I'm afraid my comment on hearing this was simply a flippant "kharma's a bitch" because I've been dying to say that ever since someone said it to me last week and because I was still feeling pissed off and angry at people invading our space. (More specifically, 10B's shed. I saw red. I am nothing if not irrationally loyal.)
But anyway, after Bazza went down, it looks like Some Guy decided to continue bravely evading the long arm of the law by jumping into our yard, phaphing round looking for somewhere to hide (I guess), then skedaddling when we made a ruckus, and climbing into a neighbouring flat.
So I pointed out the window, the young cop thanked me, glanced round, said there's no intruder in your yard now, and that was the end of their interest in us.
So I have no idea how the guy over the back fared in all this, what with having an intruder in his house. At about 2:30AM at night. I *assume* the police went and checked, but it's not like they were under any obligation to keep us informed.
There were lights and cop cars outside for a while. An ambulance turned up for Bazza.
So did Bazza's mother. (Who calls Mum when they've done something that stupid...? Is there something wrong with me for my sudden gut sense of disapproval here...? I mean, I'd have called my folks too if I hurt myself, I guess. But if I'd hurt myself running from the cops who were trying to pull me over for drunk/dangerous driving...I guess I just assume that if you do that, you're surely trying to prove something that seems mutually exclusive with dragging your poor bloody mother out to fuss over your sorry arse.)
Well. Silly buggers once they've gotten themselves hurt, that's who calls Mum. Okay. Fair enough. I would too. And good on Mum for turning up and making sure her baby's being looked after. I'd do that too ...maybe.
By this point I was really rather wishing everyone would sod off, so I could have a chat to the guy next door who'd found Bazza in his driveway. Mostly because the last time we'd spoken had been at the start of all this fuss and it seems strange to not, at some point, say "well blimey, what a night...cheers neighbour, take care." But by then he'd clearly given up and shut the door. Presumably we'll catch up soon.
I can probably go to sleep now.
1. My instinct was to run towards trouble. Probably not good since trouble was near the shed with all the heavy blunt instruments and sharp things. But my instinct was also to yell, make noise and turn lights on, which was quite okay in this situation because he didn't want to be noticed and he had an exit so he took it.
2. Waiting for the police to arrive is weird. You just sort of stand there.
3. It's amazing what people can achieve when they really put their minds to it. Some Guy moved so well and efficiently when he had to - so much better, I suspect, than he ever thought he could. This proves that you are capable of so much more than you realise - you just have to really, really want to be. Some Guy is proof of this.
4. By the same logic, Bazza really, really wanted a broken leg and a good 30 minutes of coppers making ascerbic remarks(and probably comparing his head to male genitalia) while they all waited for the ambulance to arrive. Who'd want to make that happen to themselves? Bazza is soooo fucked up.
5. I'm not compassionate when I'm feeling intruded upon. In fact, I'm downright nasty.
6. Bazza's mum is a fucking saint. Or possibly a doormat. I hope the silly bastard appreciates her.
7. Knitting makes life exciting in ways that you can't possibly imagine.