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| This photo was obviously taken on a different day to the others |
I meant to relate the following tale quite a while back and thought I actually had, but I can't find it on the blog anywhere so it looks like I never followed through. (Just as well we're not talking about farts, eh?)
Anyway, sometime around late 1971 or early '72, two pals came to my door one dark wintry evening bearing a pair of battery operated walkie-talkies (still boxed) that one of them had nicked from Woolworth's. I say two pals, but only one was actually my pal, the other being my friend's pal, and he was the one who'd done the actual nicking (he was well-known for it). They tried to unload them by asking me if I wanted them, but I said no. To be honest, I'd have liked them, but as my father worked for the police, my acceptance of the stolen items wasn't really an option open to me.
Now back in 1971 I had a newspaper round, for which I was paid the princely sum of a whole £1 per week. (Rich beyond the dreams of avarice - yeah, right.) This involved delivering papers twice a day, six days a week (Monday to Saturday), and once on the Sunday (as in only the mornings, as opposed to mornings and evenings on the weekdays). It was either on a Saturday or Sunday (a couple of days or so after I'd been offered the walkie-talkies), while delivering papers, that I stopped to lean over a railing and peer (peer I said, not pee) into a burn (a water course) which ran through an underground tunnel out into an open channel (situated across the road from the bottom of my street).
Just at the opening of the tunnel was the box for the stolen walkie-talkies, which I imagined to be empty, but to make sure, I lobbed a nearby half-brick onto it and was surprised to hear plastic breaking. I therefore carefully descended to where the box lay and retrieved it, placing it into my canvas bag for newspapers. The next day I got my father to take them into his place of work, and was given a receipt which said they'd be mine in six months if they weren't claimed. I was struck by how pointless it had been for someone to steal something and then jettison it, so I assume it had been more for the thrill of stealing than for ownership of the stolen items themselves.
A few months later we moved house, and it was maybe a month or so afterwards that I received a letter informing me the walkie-talkies were now mine to claim - so I did. Obviously I hadn't told anyone (except my brother) that I knew they were nicked and who'd nicked them, but I wasn't a 'grass' and it wasn't really relevant as I'd found them completely by accident and with no prior knowledge of where they'd been dumped - or, in fact, even that they had been.
Anyway, the damage inflicted by the brick wasn't severe (the cover to one of the battery compartments being cracked, nothing a little glue couldn't fix) and I soon had them up and working. In the very room where I now type this, I tried them out with my then-neighbour while he was in his room next door. I don't recall using them much after that and couldn't say what eventually happened to them, but I sometimes feel a little guilty over profiting from someone else's criminal act, though I take some consolation from the fact that at least they didn't.
Funny the things one remembers so many years after the fact, eh? Sadly, although I've plenty photos of the dump-spot (taken many, many years later), I don't have any of the walkie-talkies. They were grey though, if that helps you to envision them (should you want to).
Yeah, I know - an absolutely enthralling story, and stunning photos of a piece of dirty water. I've surpassed myself. (But remember, entry was free.)
ReplyDeleteSo what about the two who nicked the walkie-talkies in the first place? Did you ever tell them what happened?
ReplyDeleteIn school I had a friend called Jason who went through a shop-lifting phase and he'd shop-lift to order - tell him what you wanted and he'd pinch it for you. In the end he got caught and had to appear before a magistrate at which point he gave up his pilfering ways (as I said, it was only a phase anyway).
I told my pal whose pal had nicked them, but whether my pal told him, I couldn't say for sure. I expect he did though.
ReplyDeleteIf your pal hadn't been caught, CJ, stealing might've become a full-time occupation for him.
I doubt it, Kid, as Jason was OK really. I let him copy my German homework as he was totally crap at German and the teacher, Mr Thomas, never noticed. But when we finally sat German O Level poor Jason got a U for "unclassified" meaning he did so badly he wasn't given a grade. If you're wondering, I got a B and I was one of only 7 passes in the entire class (in fact, I came second overall).
ReplyDeleteYou can never know for sure though, CJ - all thieves start somewhere. Has passing German O' Level ever been remotely useful in your life, or was it a complete waste of time?
ReplyDeleteI suppose it was a waste of time, but having German O Level makes me look clever :D
ReplyDeleteIn fact, I passed German O Level twice - I sat the A Level too which I failed but my paper was considered good enough to be awarded an O Level pass.
Well done Colin. I was rotten at languages at school and wish I had stuck in at French or German for travel and work.
ReplyDeleteWhat annoys me most in your story Kid is the fact folk drop rubbish everywhere is jail them all.
I was never interested in learning a foreign language and never applied myself in school, CJ. Having said that, there's some people who'd say Scots is a foreign language because a lot of it is incomprehensible when spoken by some of the natives - especially neds.
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You're far too soft, McS - bring back capital punishment for the buggahs is what I say!
That was one of the first observations I took away from your photos - the amount of litter some people don't think twice about tossing into the world around them. (Tossers in more way than one eh)
ReplyDeleteWe have a beautiful wetlands area about twenty minutes walk from our house and we try to walk there every weekend (recharges the batteries, or mayby good for the soul I'd call it, if I were at all religious)and the magnificent vistas are unfortunately spoilt by discrded drink bottles, food wrappers and the like. McDonalds customers seem to be the worst offenders judging the frequency of their logo adorning the rubbish!
And it's not just litter - there's the noise pollution coming from people playing the shite that is labelled as 'music' these days or just talking loudly on their phone to somebody as the walk. Who goes out into a place like this where you can hear the wind in the trees, water running over rocks or the many bird calls just to take the crap with them that they can stay at home and annoy their neighbours with?!
But to get back to your topic; I also recall a couple of guys from my school days who would shoplift to order. Don't know if they ever got caught. I would think it would much harder to steal these days what with security cameras, electronic tags and retailers being more vigilant now.
I was walking down to the shops one day, PC, and saw a woman in a car, waiting to collect her kid/s from school, throw a Mars Bar wrapper out of her car window onto the road. I was tempted to pick it up, chap her window and say "You dropped this", but I didn't. Some people are just scum, and people like her qualify as exactly that in my mind.
ReplyDeleteAnother thing that annoys the hell out of me is when people spit on the floor in roofed over shopping malls, completely disregarding the possibility of someone slipping on their discharged 'slime'. I bet they don't spit on the floor in their houses - or do they?
As for noise pollution, I hate those selfish 'bar stewards' who sit out in their back gardens with their radios blaring away, annoying the whole neighbourhood with what they consider 'music'. It just doesn't seem to occur to them how selfish they're being. Want to sit out in your garden and listen to birds chirping and the breeze blowing? No chance with these @rseholes inflicting their dubious 'musical' tastes on the rest of us. And don't get me started on their kids; screaming, shouting, screeching, shrieking, wailing, crying, etc - it just never stops.
You'd think it would be much harder to steal these days (and probably is), but it doesn't seem to deter those who are determined to do it.
Interesting that your newspaper rounds included the evening papers. No newsagent in London that I know of delivered anytime other than the morning.
ReplyDeleteAnd the paperboys in London probably got paid more than me as well, T47. A £1 was daylight robbery, even back in 1971.
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