The cops are on to me. It seems that some nosey old biddy on Marlborough Road was peering from her bedroom window when I captured Victor, Jessica and Okwonu. A photofit picture of me has appeared on the front page of "The Star" (see above) and I must admit that the likeness is quite uncanny. There's also mention of a grey or silver Vauxhall car, though thankfully the old snooper - a Miss Kate Price - didn't clock the registration number.
Time to get away. As luck would have it, Shirley has a week off from work so I have quickly booked flights to Portugal - leaving in the morning.
I realise I have got myself in a hell of a pickle. There are seven parking enforcement officers in the underhouse and we are going to be out of the country for a week so I have decided to share my secret with our daughter - Frances. She's working as a temporary receptionist in a health centre before returning to university. It will be up to her to keep an eye on the "Secret Seven" - provide them with basic sustenance and take out their stinking slops. I have a feeling she'll be supportive as she recently got a parking ticket in Sheffield city centre - in spite of leaving a note on the car's windscreen - "Ticket machine out of order so unable to buy parking ticket". She was fined £60 - rather more than a full day's pay for a temporary receptionist.
There are plenty of fugitives from the law on Spain's Mediterranean coast and in Portugal's Algarve region - which is where we are heading. I will probably meet up with some of them in a smoky Portugese bar where we will communicate in cockney rhyming slang while downing litres of Sagres beer and bottles of Mateus Rose. Back next Thursday. If I get the opportunity to blog while in hiding, I will keep you posted...
The beach at Albufeira, Portugal
Wow! Life is never dull chez YP. I hope your daughter will exact suitable revenge for the shabby treatment she received re her parking ticket! ;)
ReplyDeleteI'm getting muddled... I thought it was me that got stung when the Queenstown meter wouldn't accept my credit card. I don't know how much of YP's story is true anymore. And surely he wouldn't go to Portugal without Shirley...?
ReplyDeleteYou write too authentically, YP!
Have a good hol.
Katherine, it's YP and Shirley who are going to Portugal. Frances is staying home.
ReplyDeleteImagine how much extra work you would have if you lived in the little town of Hercules, near San Francisco. I've heard it takes 3 cops there just to write 1 parking ticket. There was a murder in that area 2 weeks ago, the police investigated and sealed the house. Just yesterday the FBI found a second body in the same house, evidently overlooked by the local police.
ReplyDeleteThey can write tickets if enough of them put their heads together, they just can't do much more.
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/09/12/BA6K1FBT8A.DTL&tsp=1
ReplyDeleteDo you have relatives in San Francisco? Are you leading a second life? Or is this just another sarcastic person who has suffered at the hands of maniacal ticket writers?
Well, hmm, that address got sort of messed up. I'll try it again.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/09/12/BA6K1FBT8A.DTL&tsp=1
Please hurry back and take a look at Daphne's tower climber. It may be just the thing for your next vacation.
ReplyDelete