It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen

I've mentioned it here before in passing (a prize will be awarded to the person, without looking who can tell me where. Hang on, that won't work will it? I won't know whether you have looked or not. OK, no prizes will be awarded but you may feel a warm glow of pride* if you can guess where it was mentioned.) This event happened, according to my twitter account, on 28th November 2008, but I have been meaning to write about it for a while, as it seemed to signal a change in thinking for me.

My twitters stated thus, like a telegram sent in troubled times (my life is melodrama, just indulge me):

I live in a place where police powers are exercised to interrupt my film with tannoyed threats about the non return of a stolen Magimix, but at least the perfection façade has finally ended, although I wish it hadn't all got quite so dystopian STOP Fully expect dawn raid to follow STOP

Now the full (read, long) account:

If my memory serves me correctly, it was a perfect warm / chilly / dry / wet Friday evening at around 8.30pm, the day after Thanksgiving, and our insides were at ease with the world. We had settled in to watch a film (probably a deeply intelligent, art house, life changing production, and not Elf) when we were interrupted by a series of coughs, high-pitched ear-splitting feedback, some giggles and long bouts of white noise from the tannoy system connected to the fire alarm (we don't just get an alarm, it is assumed we are more hard of thinking and require a voice telling us that this is a fire alarm and we have to leave the building, followed by more disconnected voices outside in the corridor encouraging us not to use the lifts and take the stairs, just in case we panic outside the confines of our abodes - I digress...) We weren't sure whether to evacuate or not, but put our shoes on and kind of hung around the front door waiting to see what our neighbours might do. They hung around their doors and waited to see what we would do.

Finally the suspense was over. A few more squeals from the tannoy (making sure that the last small child who had been asleep was now very much awake) and then a message along the lines of 'This is the police department. A Magimix placed in one of the charity collection boxes has been stolen. There is CCTV in the building, so we will find out who you are. However, if you have picked it up by mistake, you can return it where you found it' (the sub text in my head was, 'or one of your loved ones will mysteriously disappear'). Then followed more laughter, then wonderful silence.

Now, what would be worse, to find out that this invasion of privacy, intrusion of our soon to be a classic film, was a joke played by some 'crazy' college students, or to find out that is was actually the police?

Yep. It was the police.

Mike, with steaming ears, immediately wrote a stern email to the housing authorities and the police (whose contact address bounced; nice touch) questioning the meaning of this inappropriate communication. He was responded to by the housing people the following Monday to say that the matter would be investigated. A few days later, a letter from the police department was stuck unceremoniously to our door apologising for the incident and stating that there would be a meeting for residents to discuss their concerns, and that we would be contacted with a date.

Lip service paid. Holiday festivities commenced and finished. New Year well and truly under way. To date, we have not been contacted about a resident meeting and surely even the most volcanic of tempers will merely smoulder by now, so that can safely be swept under the carpet.

I probably shouldn't write any more. My twitters did it justice really in 280 characters.

Oh, and the Magimix was returned that night - the letter said that there had been some kind of 'misunderstanding' so there will be someone out there using a food mixer, oblivious to it's troubled history. I hope their smoothies, pesto, cakes, sauces, and that's all I can think of's taste all the sweeter.


* Warm glow not guaranteed. No refunds allowed.