I had to actually do some dishes today. Mostly because I needed some of the dirty ones to make myself lunch. And also, the bench space to make myself lunch.
I also had to call the police. It was all OH NOES MISTEHR POLICE MAN HEELP ME. Well, not really. But, in my state of temporary Macauleyness, I am actually the only one home in the immediate neighbourhood. I�m clearing the mail and all, right?
Anyway, I stumble out of bed this morning at the early hour of ten, and dost mine ears deceive me? There are people nextdoor. What the fuck? So I look out the window. but there are shrubs in the way and I can only catch glimpses of people and cars. So, safe behind the shrubs, I quietly open a window and lean forward. There are two guys there, messing with my neighbour�s car. The car that had previously been locked safe in my neighbour�s garage.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Using good ol� Nancy Drew tactics I scout around a bit... In my pjs, mind you, because I had just stumbled out of bed. Well, actually, I was in a summer, kimono-styled robe, because my pjs only consist of a t shirt with a somewhat disturbing graphic on it - something along the lines of this. Anyway, for all my barely-dressed scouting, my vantage points are no good. I can�t really make out what the hell they�re doing. On the one hand, one of the guy calls someone on his cellphone and is plainly talking to a small child. Not very Grand Theft Auto, si? On the other hand, there�s nobody fucking home, which the guys remark on, and nobody said anything to me about people coming over to mess with anything. They also make a few comments about the locking system in the car. But they�re not exactly quiet about it.
So we have two options. One: they�re there to fix the central locking system of my neighbour�s car. More likely, given their not-so-stealthy demeanours. Two: they�re here to cause mischief. Not so likely, but still entirely possible.
Conscientious neighbour that I am, I thought I�d better call the police to be on the safe side. I know - I�m all up ons on the conscientious these past few days, huh? Just call me a pain in the ass. The nice lady on the telephone concurred, however, when I told her it was mostly likely a false alarm, that in a time of suspicion it is best to phone the fuzz instead of trying to to play Grace Kelly in your own, intriguing, backyard drama.
Turns out that, of course, there were no nefarious deeds going down. For which I am quite grateful. But I told Marv and Harry I was reading for their sorry asses, so take THAT, burglars from my overactive teenage imagination!
Also, I am never mentioning this incident to my parents. Do I look that stupid? It might be amusing to see their expressions when I told them upon their return, but then they�d probably never leave me here alone again. Despite the fact that many people I know live quite successfully without their parents to prevent them from calling the police over nothing.
In the other exciting events of today, I did laundry.
No, I jest. I did actually do laundry, but even more thrilling than that, Harriet and I went to the beach. We blasted out some beachgoers with I Need A Hero, saw some jellyfish, had ice creams (we are messy children), went adventuring in the pine trees and got my ankle scratched by something I am plainly allergic to (A SEXY ACCIDENT), saw a guy cleaning a house number out of the rust on his fence, and saw one naked child playing in a front yard.
Himitangi beach is a hole.
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