Monday, May 11, 2009

When there's a headwind both ways.

Seems to be happening today, and I'm not sure how that works.
One of the things about living in a very flat country I guess. The wind does tend to blow. Probably a good place for say, windmills? Hm.
Now there's an idea.
My first urge was to name this entry "Life in Mayberry", but I've been accused of being slightly negative lately in my posts, so I guess I relented.
Thing is, I decided to have another chat with the constabulary, and report the suspicious bike that appeared right next to the spot where my previous "new and shiney" had been parked.
Now, here in Mayberry er, I mean Delden, the police are only at the Parochial house on certain days. I think I touched on the "Parochie Huis" in a previous post, since this is now a community building where we've been known to go for blood work and eye tests. Oh, and I did drop off some pee on one occasion.
Almost forgot.
I'm sure you care.

Where was I?

Right, the Parochial House. Sorry there's no English version in that link, but at least you can look at the nice pictures.

So last week I managed to screw up, since I somehow thought there was someone there after one p.m., when it turns out the hours are from 10:00 a.m. until 1:00 p.m.
I certainly wasn't about to ride into Hengelo to report what I suspected is a stolen bike, so I figured I'd just wait.

So I show up after 10 and go in to see Barney, who is at the desk sorting out some paperwork (well, he was on the computer, so I can only guess) and we had a little chat. I proceeded to tell my little tale of woe, and explained that the reason for my visit had to do with this bike that was still standing in front of the bakery.

I guess I wasn't sure what to expect, since I suppose there are all kinds of different ways of handling stolen bikes, none of which are too terribly effective, and so I wasn't too surprised when he offered to take a little trip to check out the situation.
Now, I don't want to give away any dark secrets or anything, but I have been in the inside of a police cruiser at some point way, way back in my past. I think it was a Crown Vic. (This was in the days when you could actually get out of your car and go up to the cop car and get in the front seat. Nowadays they'd shoot yer sorry ass)
So stepping into a "police cruiser" in the Netherlands was a bit of a different experience for me.

Let me just give you a visual.....
Yes kids, that's a VW Polo.
At least it wasn't a "Lupo", which is even smaller.
Now in all fairness, this had to have been his own vehicle, since the only gadgets I saw in the thing were a couple flashlights and a gps. The typical police car over here looks more like this:

Maybe there was a police radio, but I sure didn't see it.

So we chatted on the way over to the scene of the crime, and he proceeds to tell me how just about everyone in the country has at least one bike stolen in their lifetime.

Swell, now I feel like I really belong.

The thing is, every bike has a serial number. Most times it's on the bottom of the stem at the apex of the crank, or in the case of this particular specimen, the number was also on the lock. (so we didn't have to heft the thing and flip it over) Barney didn't think to bring a piece of paper, so he had to write the number on his hand.

Hey, I didn't bring a pad with me or anything.

Should I?

Pretty sure they would have covered that in the Police Academy. Then again, maybe they're striving for a "paperless" police force or something.
I dunno.

OK, I'm trying not to be negative here. He was a really nice guy. Really.

Gave me a ride back and everything.

I'm sure he'll wave if I see him next week.

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Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.