It has been a long time since I have recorded my movements in this blog. This results partly from a burgeoning workload and an increasing familiarity with my less than new surroundings. A brief summary of happenings is as follows:
And now the incident that has prompted my return to the blogosphere:
Last night, while walking to Kilburn tube from my Aunt Celia’s house, I was mugged by two hooded youths who ended up with some cash and my bag containing my laptop. While this is perhaps not an event that would normally be suited for a publication of this tone, the rather pathetic humour of the event is worth relating. Thus, I present for you the events of the evening of 13th March 2012.
(Enter Patrick, a fine looking young man dressed in his smart casual work wear, a dark navy pea coat and carrying a large black satchel. Glowing with the recent encounter with his extended family, he is strolling back to Kilburn tube to return to his temporary place of residence while he visits London. His gaze falls to the other side of the road where it inadvertently catches the eye of a hooded youth, walking with his companion [also hooded and youthful] in the opposite direction)
[The first piece of evidence in my realisation that I am about as ‘street’ as a Countryside Alliance march in the Royal Opera House is my complete inability to recognise any of the vocabulary used by my assailants, thus I have translated based on context and inflection]
Hooded Youth 1: I say! You there! Does my appearance bother you? If not, why is it that you have chosen to look at me so?
(Patrick walks on, now a little flustered. Youths 1 and 2 cross the road to continue the encounter)
Hooded Youth 1: Is it a physical confrontation that you seek? I am quite prepared for fisticuffs?
Patrick: [actual words] I’m sorry, I don’t really understand but I don’t want any trouble.
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your wallet/purse/money clip and also your mobile telephone.
(Hooded Youth 1 moves in ‘Central Line in rush hour close’ and reaches into his pocket, removing an object that resembles a flick knife, but could quite easily have been a travel comb or a Mont Blanc ‘luxury writing instrument’)
Patrick: Can I keep my cards? They are useless to you.
Hooded Youth 1: A good point well made sir. Let us have all of the currency that you are carrying then.
Patrick: I think I’ve only got American currency on me.
Hooded Youth 1: It will suffice, I know an excellent Bureau de Change a short walk from here.
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your bag!
[the following line is a damning indictment of me as a human being, please be prepared]
Patrick: But it has all my work in it and I haven’t backed up my files for a while!
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your bag or we shall have to stab you!
(Patrick reluctantly hands over satchel, laptop and all. The youths, growing jumpy, turn and run [were they rapscallions from the early to mid 20th century, they would have ‘scarpered’])
Hooded Youth 1: Now we shall go our separate ways, I suggest you don’t look at us or follow us.
At this point I attempted to follow them at a distance, but lost track of them while speaking to the lady in the Police incident room. I then stood and waited for a police car to come and pick me up so we could search the surrounding area. My woes followed the following process:
Eventually, I found the police car (they had been sent to the wrong road) and we drove around fruitlessly while I tried to be as CSI as possible in my description of events. The officers dropped me home with the promise that they would be ‘turning over’ anyone who matched my descriptions.
On the bright side, I had not been stabbed, my passport was not in the bag, and most importantly, my novel was actually in my coat pocket (this brought an irrational quantity of comfort). Only my ego is injured, and I’m sure some of you will agree that that can only be a good thing!
- New Years Eve at big house in Connecticut. Mainly talked to the pets and passed out curled up in the bottom of an arm chair
- Went skiing in Whistler to visit friend (Katie Salter) doing ski season. Very snowy and cold
- Have been contracted out to client in New York and so spending four days a week in the city. It remains busy and tall
- Currently coming to the end of a two week business/pleasure (that fatal mix) trip to the UK. All was going swimmingly until...
And now the incident that has prompted my return to the blogosphere:
Last night, while walking to Kilburn tube from my Aunt Celia’s house, I was mugged by two hooded youths who ended up with some cash and my bag containing my laptop. While this is perhaps not an event that would normally be suited for a publication of this tone, the rather pathetic humour of the event is worth relating. Thus, I present for you the events of the evening of 13th March 2012.
(Enter Patrick, a fine looking young man dressed in his smart casual work wear, a dark navy pea coat and carrying a large black satchel. Glowing with the recent encounter with his extended family, he is strolling back to Kilburn tube to return to his temporary place of residence while he visits London. His gaze falls to the other side of the road where it inadvertently catches the eye of a hooded youth, walking with his companion [also hooded and youthful] in the opposite direction)
[The first piece of evidence in my realisation that I am about as ‘street’ as a Countryside Alliance march in the Royal Opera House is my complete inability to recognise any of the vocabulary used by my assailants, thus I have translated based on context and inflection]
Hooded Youth 1: I say! You there! Does my appearance bother you? If not, why is it that you have chosen to look at me so?
(Patrick walks on, now a little flustered. Youths 1 and 2 cross the road to continue the encounter)
Hooded Youth 1: Is it a physical confrontation that you seek? I am quite prepared for fisticuffs?
Patrick: [actual words] I’m sorry, I don’t really understand but I don’t want any trouble.
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your wallet/purse/money clip and also your mobile telephone.
(Hooded Youth 1 moves in ‘Central Line in rush hour close’ and reaches into his pocket, removing an object that resembles a flick knife, but could quite easily have been a travel comb or a Mont Blanc ‘luxury writing instrument’)
Patrick: Can I keep my cards? They are useless to you.
Hooded Youth 1: A good point well made sir. Let us have all of the currency that you are carrying then.
Patrick: I think I’ve only got American currency on me.
Hooded Youth 1: It will suffice, I know an excellent Bureau de Change a short walk from here.
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your bag!
[the following line is a damning indictment of me as a human being, please be prepared]
Patrick: But it has all my work in it and I haven’t backed up my files for a while!
Hooded Youth 2: Give us your bag or we shall have to stab you!
(Patrick reluctantly hands over satchel, laptop and all. The youths, growing jumpy, turn and run [were they rapscallions from the early to mid 20th century, they would have ‘scarpered’])
Hooded Youth 1: Now we shall go our separate ways, I suggest you don’t look at us or follow us.
At this point I attempted to follow them at a distance, but lost track of them while speaking to the lady in the Police incident room. I then stood and waited for a police car to come and pick me up so we could search the surrounding area. My woes followed the following process:
- Bugger, that was a nice laptop and I don’t think it will be covered by any insurance + I am going to lose some work
- Shit, my glasses were in the bag
- Wank, my book (John Niven’s The Second Coming) was in the bag, I was really enjoying that
Eventually, I found the police car (they had been sent to the wrong road) and we drove around fruitlessly while I tried to be as CSI as possible in my description of events. The officers dropped me home with the promise that they would be ‘turning over’ anyone who matched my descriptions.
On the bright side, I had not been stabbed, my passport was not in the bag, and most importantly, my novel was actually in my coat pocket (this brought an irrational quantity of comfort). Only my ego is injured, and I’m sure some of you will agree that that can only be a good thing!
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