Nicked

Had to call the Police again yesterday evening.
James took my car to work for the first time - his new employer requires him to use his own car for business purposes and he adjusted my insurance for this on Saturday.
Anyway he went on his scheduled visit in the morning. Then he received a call requiring him to go out again unplanned. On returning to the car park he was in a rush and didn't take the front out of the car stereo.
Two hours later he returned to the car to come home.
No stereo.
Damaged drivers door lock.
Bugger.
My first ever insurance claim is now underway.
Yesterday was a bit pants, it feels like it's been a long week already.
Hannah

Social Comment

I called the police today before 8am.
Walking from Clapham Junction towards my normal bus stop I encountered the usual rowdy crowd of schoolchildren. But today something was up. They are usually noisy and shouting to each other across the street but today the tone was different. Their eyes glinted with something very scary. They seemed to fill the pavement more. As I stood at the bus stop for about a minute and watched I could see something was going to happen. They were moving in groups, up and down the street, some on their phones. They were facing off to each other, but this wasn't play fighting. There were groups from two schools.
Before anything actually kicked off I'd made the decision to call 999. I figured for a large group of schoolchildren to be this intimidating and wound up before 8am something had to happen. I called the police from my mobile whilst still watching this situation unfold. The operator asked me questions.
How many:? 15 to 25
How old? 13 -14
Any weapons seen? No, thank goodness for small mercies.
As the call came to a close the first punches were thrown and my bus arrived. The operator said the Police were on their way but I didn't stay to find out.
The situation upset me. Because fighting upsets me, and these were kids. No older than the kids I see in my youth group on a Friday. And they were mainly girls. Mainly black. and mainly Muslim. Young women shouting and screaming and kicking and punching.
As I sat on the bus, another woman was also starting her call to the Police. As she held the line, a young man further down the bus asked her if she was calling the Police. When she replied that she was he gave her a torrent of verbal abuse, saying it was a 'normal fight', and that they were 'his sisters' and she had 'no business' calling the police. The woman stood up for herself, quite rightly pointing out that kids are being killed on the streets of South London at the moment, and there is no such thing as a normal fight. I thought about backing her up, but decided against it. Why? because I feared for my own safety, because I am white and neither of the people on the bus were. Perhaps that's why the Police didn't receive 40 calls this morning from people standing at bus stops at Clapham Junction, becasue we are scared of what will happen if we speak out adn stand up for justice.
When did we become a society that looks on and lets our young people dish out their own violent justice? When did young people take justice into their own hands? When did gangs form on the streets of South London, and become an acceptable way of life for our kids?
How many kids have to die before something changes?
Hannah

Train Trauma

I am usually quite an organised person, especially when it comes to my Travel Card. I am that smug person who whisks past the massive queue on the Tuesday after Bank Holiday laughing at everyone who forgot to renew their passes. I don't have a season ticket loan scheme at work and because I am not cash rich I have to buy my card on a monthly basis. If my card runs out midweek then I am good at renewing it at Brixton tube. If it runs out at the weekend I am not so good, leaving me annoyed and queueing on a Monday morn.

This Monday was one of those.

Monday is an early start meaning I have to be on the 7.18 train at South Croydon. I arrived at the station at 7.05 with plenty of time to join the two people at the ticket machine. I queued, chose my ticket and put in my card. Nothing. No error no nothing. I pulled my card from the machine and joined the by four people queuing at the window. The people moved slowly. The woman in front of me wanted a travel card and a car park pass. Two transactions for the price of one queue space. Not fair. The ding dongs of the train announcement went. It was my turn. I asked for my ticket, put my card in typed my pin. As the printer spat out my ticket the train started to pull in, and it printed my receipt I was half way through the door of the ticket office.

Card, wallet, tickets, hand bag and book bag in hand I sprinted, two and half inch wedges, down the stairs, through, the subway, up the stairs and towards the open train door. I took a running jump at the door and

SPLAT

I caught the toe of my shoe on the ledge of the door and literally flew head first into the carriage. Hands full my brain must have decided that twisting and falling on my shoulder was the best way. I am sure I heard people go 'ooooooooo' as I landed and one woman asked me if I was OK. OK? yes. Embarrassed? Definitely. I gingerly stood up and in true commuter style acted as if nothing had happened, despite the stinging in my right knee. I rearranged my trousers - damn I'm glad I wore good pants! Thankfully at East Croydon a seat became available and I spent the rest of the journey eyes closed in prayer. Please God let the ground swallow me up must have been in there.

Safely plonked on the bus at Clapham I inspected my knee to find true seven year old style playground grazes and the start of some lovely bruising. This has got slowly worse over the week with bruises on my right knee and sore muscles in my left shoulder.

If I learnt one thing from this incident its wear flat shoes on the day you forget to renew your season ticket - or just buy it earlier!

Hannah