I received a phone call today.
From the police.
It was regarding the incident last month when my number plates were nicked.
You see, I’m now classed as a “Victim Of Crime” and today’s call was a follow up from the support unit (or some such) to see if I was OK and hadn’t suffered further number plate thefts, or to see whether I was stressed and anxious over the original crime and needed support.
Which I’m not. But it was a nice thought.
Of course, in these days where everyone is measured in everything they do, this phone call had an ulterior motive: to find out if I was happy with how the police had dealt with my issue.
“Was there anything we could have done better?” asked the very nice man at the other end of the phone.
“Well yes, you could have stopped my number plates from being nicked in the first place”, I said in a slightly serious tone, “From now on, I’d like to see a policeman on every street corner, please, and two outside my house.”
His affable voice changed slightly and he gave a small nervous laugh, obviously not sure whether I was being serious or not. “Well, I’m not sure that we can…”
“It’s OK”, I interjected, “I’m only joking. I know that you can’t afford that level of policing… that would be ridiculous. Just the one policeman outside my house will do.”
“Erm, well, I think I have everything I need,” he said, ” Thank you for your time.” And he hung up.
Well, that’s me red flagged on their database then. Hope I never have to call 999.
If we had that level of policing, then the unemployment levels would go down? What do you think, good move?
Would it go down though? Think of all the gaol wardens, judges and the poor old lawyers who would be out of work.
A Daily Mail reader writes:
I remember Saturday evenings when I used to sit on the couch watching Z-Cars and Dixon of Dock Green when the police used to turn up in their Panda cars at the drop of a hat or the hint of a spot of bother and nick villains and give cheeky lads a clip round the ear-’ole and send them on their way and help old laidies cross the street and rescue stranded kittens from trees and have a bit of a laugh with each other before going off to the caff for a mug of tea and a slice of toast…
Now they ring you up and say ‘sorry you have had a spot of bother, we’re never going to catch the people who did you in but before we sell your details to an insurance claims helpline can we ask you how we did?’
How times have changed.
(good job I’m not really a Daily Mail reader, eh?)
“(good job I’m not really a Daily Mail reader, eh?)”
Thou doth protest too much, methinks.