I’ve run out of things to write about
Mind you, there have been a couple of weird incidents. An eleven year old girl sitting slouched and unresponsive on the corner of a street. There’s a woman walking her dog standing over her, looking concerned. I wandered over.
“She’s just sitting there not talking. She won’t talk to me.” Says the woman, all motherly concern.
“Oh, right.” Say I, and the woman leaves me ‘holding the baby’ as it were. The girl very much reminds me of my youngest when she was eleven, so I try to see if she’ll talk. “Hello there. What’s up?” No response.
“It’s too cold a day to be sitting out here.” Not a twitch.
As a ‘caring’ parent, my next move would be (With my own kids) to edge my boot up to the unresponsive backside to nudge a response and tell a joke. Regrettably, in the eyes of our social worker infested paradise such behaviour would more than likely be misconstrued, so I key my radio and put out a call to CCTV.
“Hello Cameras, this is 515. Got a kid sitting slouched on the corner of Borough and Shetland Avenue – cancel that.” A Patrol car pulls up and a solitary Copper gets out. “She’s not talking, just sitting here unresponsive.” I said.
“Thanks for the call.” He says and steps into the breach, obviously thinking it was me who had called him out.
“No problem.” I respond, for want of a more appropriate thing to say, and get back on my beat.
Then there was the car whose driver forgot to turn a corner and ended up stuck on a grassy bank in one of our car parks, so we all turned out to shift it back into a more forgiving environment for a hatchback, i.e. good old tarmac. Around about the same time too. Like I said, nothing of any great import, and not much to write about.