A quiet night out with Tim at the Red Lion turns into a mini melodrama, when it all kicks off in this usually oh-so-respectable drinking establishment.
The root cause it appears is the disappearance of a mobile phone that a woman forgot to take with her when she and her companion left the pub. Returning half an hour later, she finds (rather unsurprisingly) that the phone is nowhere to be seen.
One thing leads to another and suddenly the young lads in the corner are prime suspects.
The deciding factor of guilt in her eyes apparently is that when she accused them, they suggested she fuck off and when she responded to that by saying she'd ring the police, they replied "well fucking phone them then".
Now I have no idea if they nicked the phone or not, Tim and I saw nothing, but equally we could well have missed it even if they did, but it strikes me that hanging around after you'd nicked a phone isn't the most obvious choice of action.
Plus if they are innocent...well frankly if someone accused me of a crime I didn't commit just (as appeared to be the case) because I was a certain age and had a certain look, well I think I'd respond in a similar manner to the way they did.
Which is not to say that whoever nicked her phone isn't a total toerag, but continuing a scene about it for over an hour seems a little pointless.
Much better to spend one's time at the local police station with one's face pressed up against the window...
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
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