This Punk made Clinty the Police Dog’s Day ?

The Police Dog handler sternly warned the two youthful burglars caught on our closed business premises.

“Now stay there and don’t move”.

On hearing that command, the Alsatian growled at them menacingly, with lips curled, fangs bared, daring the youths in his best Clint Eastwood style

“Go ahead punks - make my day.”

We suffered a few break ins, probably because we were in a big old rambling building where there were many places to force entry.

In our favour though, was an excellent movement detector alarm system linked to the police station, about 100 yards behind our property.

A few intruders over the years were startled by what must have seemed like nano seconds from the alarm sounding and dashing out into the arms of the waiting police.

Best definition of a nano second – the time from when the traffic light turns green, and the car behind blasts it’s horn.

Why the police arrested our Chef

The wife and I retired twice, letting the restaurant and shop business to tenants for a rental income, but we returned on both occasions to take up the reins again.

The second time involved the Official Receiver in bankruptcy. We were anxious that the business should not remain closed, because whilst building custom takes time and hard work, poor management and closure can see it rapidly disappear.

So I was pressing the Official Receiver daily to allow us to get the premises re-opened.

Most of our original cooks and serving staff had gone to other jobs, so in a rush I enquired at the jobs agency. My luck was in. A recently retired army chef was available.

Hurry scurry, every day closed was precious. I just checked bare details. Yes, he was qualified and he could start like - NOW.

So I engaged chef Graham, who then said he had nowhere to live because his wife wouldn’t have him back.

Under the shop was a cellar store room and old office with all services connected. I said he could stay there until fixed up. Took a risk with an unknown having the run of the property when closed, but the plus side was he would work getting the kitchen ready for opening.

We re-opened, announcing - under new/old management, and as it was our second return from retirement, a joke about more comebacks than Frank Sinatra.

Thankfully, business soon started to pick up, but after a few days, during a busy lunch time, two policemen entered and said they wanted to interview and possibly arrest our new chef.

Holy smoley ! You can’t do that. But they did. Marching him through the restaurant in his whites.

Exposed by the Telly!

Turns out he had deserted the army. He might have stayed free longer, but after a few nights in our cellar he found lodgings. There were other guests in the bed and breakfast, and one day the landlady reported to the police that a television was missing.

The police interviewed the residents, and were told that there was also a Graham, who they could find working at our place. In questioning Graham in our restaurant kitchen about the television, it came out that he was an army deserter.

Graham sent us a letter from a well-known jail in Manchester, thanking us for helping him, explaining that the problem in his marriage caused him to desert the army, and stressing that he had nothing to do with the stolen, f.. expletive deleted, television, that led to his downfall.

Sign of the times. Customer letter to supplier.

Hello
When am I going to get the coat I ordered a month ago? The winter is over. You need to buckup. Customer expectations have become accustomed to Amazon next day delivery standards; Amazon are striving to do even better. They now seem to know what I want before I do!
Yours truly.

Also in the paper -

Kind face theory dashed?

I seem to get picked on by strangers wanting directions. My friends say it’s because I’ve got a kind face, but an incident in a cycle race disproves that.

I was a member of Hereford Wheelers Cycling Club for many years, touring and racing sections. I was not much good at racing, and what I describe next was the last straw.

10-mile individual time trials took place on summer evenings. Riders set off at minute intervals, and the aim is to complete the 5 mile out and back course in the fastest time.

As well as racing the clock, you are also trying to catch the minute man ahead, and not be caught by the minute man behind. I was never able to get under the half hour like the fastest riders, or ever catch the minute man ahead, but frequently got passed by the one behind.

The evening race that convinced me I should stick to touring saw me all kitted up in sleek wind cheating racing jersey, streamlined crash helmet, racing number on my back. Looked as good as Bradley Wiggins - off the bike.

I’d gone about a mile when a car overtook and pulled up sharply in front, forcing me to brake hard or go into the back of it. Chap got out and said ‘Can you tell me if this is the right road to ………..’

Passing me from behind he could not have seen a kind face, and he certainly didn’t after, the stupid &#%-hole!

And to Sign off.

I have an age related slight hearing impairment, so with television I use subtitles. Some of the computer generated typos are unintentionally funny.

EU referendum – ‘I am reporting from a brothel in Brussels’

Cookery show – ‘Try to avoid peeing in the oven as it can spoil the appearance.’

Church service – ‘There will now be a moment’s violence’

Credits
Dog Figurine. My Photo file
Prison Chef BBC America
Cyclist Google Advanced.
Electricity Sub Stn. Google Free Blank Template.