So last night, in a freakish replay of last week's events, I heard a distinctively ominous BANG at about 9pm. Calling husband I threw open the front door in time to see a hooded figure run across our front yard and jump the wall, taking off down the road.
Seems he'd tried to force our front security gate, hoping to gain access to the enclosed porch in which we keep our bikes - admittedly irresistible bait to the small-time criminal - in the process rendering the lock useless, and us captive in our own house.
Cunt.
Security company was duly called, more for procedure than any hope of pursuing the perp, and then our home insurers to book a locksmith for the morning. At which point we discovered that obviously in order to claim for the damages we would need a police case number, which of course meant having to formally report the incident.
And so, in what felt like a massive waste of the already massively-strapped SA Police Force's time and resources, we had two officers in our lounge last evening, taking my statement about nothing, and a visiting detective and a finger-print guy here today, practically doing nothing, all so we wouldn't have to spend R500+ of our own money on repairing our gate.
And they were all so nice and helpful and sympathetic, which almost made me feel worse. And even more annoyed with the would-be burglar.
I'm annoyed that this pathetic little junkie/opportunist/desperately hungry individual (I added the last one to create the illusion of lefty-liberalism, sneaky hey?) got within metres of my sleeping daughters.
I'm annoyed that my feelings of security in my own home have been shaken a little.
I'm annoyed that we now need to find alternative storage for our bikes when the porch was just perfect for them.
I'm annoyed that the key for the new lock is ugly.
And mostly I'm annoyed that my BULL TERRIER slept soundly on her chair throughout the entire event. So much for that!
Monday, July 04, 2011
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3 comments:
Meh, this is the PITS. It's the same in the UK, any attempt to claim on your insurance means reporting stuff to the police (eg your phone). FFS...they are BUSY or should be with important stuff.
I know it's worse in SA but I had the same rage when we lived in London. We lived in a rough bit of London, kind of cool and edgy but rough. All kinds of crime surrounded and affected us. What broke the camel's back for me was hearing broken glass and opening the front door to see someone rifflling through the glovebox of our car, having smashed the window. I was about to call out, and then realised that it would mean the bloke knew where I lived. So I watched him steal our stuff. The police advised us to park our car in the 'secure' car park around the corner. We did. A week later some bloke jumped over the wall and did exactly the same. I cried. We moved to the country. xx
I liked it so much and very interesting, too! Thanks for sharing the experience.
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I liked it so much and very interesting, too! Thanks for sharing the experience.
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