Sunday, 18 January 2009

Just one more thing...

Listening to: Pavement - 'Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain'

Dialect word of the day: Coupon (Face)

Much excitement in this little corner of the world (by which I mean the tenement block in the Leith/Edinburgh hinterland in which I reside) A brave member of the Lothian and Borders Dibble turned up at 9am to be greeted by Jess on the very cusp of drunkenness and a stinking hangover. One of our neighbours has been subject to a sustained spate of graffiti on his front door and had called the Feds in to investigate. Quite why this gentleman who seems an inoffensive sort, should be prolonged to a such a sustained campaign puzzles me. Given that the communal door is on a dead lock, it's a fair bet that the culprit also lives in one of the other seven flats.

The graffiti is fairly amateurish daubing of genitalia, and if the representation of the male organs is an anatomically accurate, I would suggest that the perpetrator should arrange a consultation with a urologist tout suite, although credit where credit's due, his depiction of a woman's most private of places displays a certain elan and given the chosen medium (marker pen) a remarkable attention to detail.

Given that there are a limited number of people who could have done this, any unusual bangs or noises has me rushing to the door or window to investigate. I am tempted to launch my own inquiry in the style of TV's Columbo. I'd be perfect for it; I already have the trench coat, shambolic appearance and battered French car, with the twist that I deal with low-level nuisance crime rather than homicides and whereas Columbo's bumbling absent mindedness is a device to lull suspects into a false sense of security, my incompetence is utterly genuine.

Although I had the novel experience of being praised for an aspect of my work today. My knowledge of two rooms on the tourist route was described as "awesome." I apologise for this burst of brazen immodesty and I realize that in the overall scheme of things, my ability to retain, snippets of historical trivia and regurgitating them at will, is nothing to shout about. However as the majority of my working life up to this point has been characterised by low level uselessness, punctuated with occasional bouts of mind boggling buffoonery, so any praise coming my way I am almost pathetically grateful for.

Hopefully such kind words will sustain me as I spend the week at my other job, bungling my way about the Scottish Youth justice system, where, rest assured, it will be very much business as usual.


scarlet-blue said...

Perhaps the perpetrator is an art student... or a biology student... or more likely, a maths student.

rhinestonecatboy said...

well he does show an undue interest in multiplication

scarlet-blue said...

My point exactly...

Madame DeFarge said...

I am impressed that L and B's finest have bestirred themselves from their winter hibernation to examine the graffiti upon the door.

And praise indeed for your perambulations around Holyrood. Although maybe they were awed by the knowledge that you are a famous detective and as such could prove that the dod of red paint on the floor was Rizzio's blood.

Good luck with your continued efforts to reduce the criminogenic risk factors in Scotland's youth.

Jimmy Bastard said...

Small phallic symbols are the norm in the cesspit locally known as Edinburgh.

For the fuller, and more well endowed phallic shapes, one has to move along the M8 corridor to the Utopian capital of culture, known as Glesga.

scarlet-blue said...

Where've you gone Master Catboy? Do I need to send out a search party?

Madame DeFarge said...

Scarlet - I was wondering the same thing myself. A profound, and unwelcome, silence.