Escaping Crime
I’ve been thinking. Ja, I do that from time to time.
We have a bit of a problem with burglars and the likes in our neighbourhood. Maybe it should be taken as a compliment that they consider our area as upmarket enough to target us, but I’ve never really been one for the limelight. Not that I don’t have an ego, I just prefer to be more the back office kind of guy.
Flatscreen TV’s appear to be flavour of the month. I have considered putting up a notice on my lawn that says: “NO, I DON’T HAVE A FLATSCREEN, BUT MY NEIGHBOUR HAS TWO.” But then again, I might just need my neighbour one night, you know.
On the days that the wheelie bins go out, vagrants start doing their bin scratching thing from as soon as the first bins go out. It is an annoyance having them there. We have also been advised by the security companies that the informants for the organised crime guys mingle with the bin scratchers to recce the area. Wow! How would you fancy that: mingling with thís crowd. I mean, it’s not like you share a few jokes over a glass of bubbly.
This leaves you with the problem of how to approach them. I mean, really, who in his right mind would voluntarily choose bin scratching as a regular occupation. And to then be verbally abused by apparent affluent people on top of that cannot be much fun.
But then again, can I afford to be politically correct where my security is at risk?
The other night I was doing neighbourhood watch patrol. At about 03h00 in the morning I spotted this chap walking. He headed for a bicycle that was hidden on someone’s sidewalk garden (mine, nogals!) I stopped next to him and sternly demanded: “Haai!”
The gentleman with the bicycle may tell you that it was more of a feeble croaky “Hi?” that he heard, but who are you going to believe? An upstanding citizen such as myself, of this chap who lurks around my neighbourhood at three-o-clock in the morning?
In any event, he did not stick around for a discussion. He hopped on his bicycle and cruised out of the area rather speedily. Which is good. I don’t really want to catch skelms, I just want them to go away.
Now, this is a free country, and everybody has a constitutional right to scratch in bins and to travel through my area with their bicycle at 03h00 in the morning. I, on the other hand, have the constitutional right to be obnoxious towards them, and to make them feel unwelcome.
OK, let met admit this: I have tendencies. Whimp tendencies. I feel bad everytime I see these poor fellows scratching in the bins, even if I suspect some of them to be skelms out on a recce.
So the question is, what do you do about this?
After rather intensive thinking and research, I got to an answer. And I can’t believe how simple it was. Should have thought about this long ago.
I have to move. Simple as that.
All I need to decide now is whether I want to live in Granaatboskolk, or maybe Bloudulsiesfontein.
So now I’m still thinking.
PGJ