Aaargh! Back to work this afternoon after five days off. The less I work the less I want to work. Last shift was wall-to-wall PSNI because of two runaway teenagers. I wonder if they found them? The police are funny buggers these days. Some of them have this couldn’t give a damn attitude. Like the two who called round and were more interested in the serial numbers of an ex-resident’s electrical goods that were awaiting collection. Yer man the David Irvine look-a-like said, “Are you worried about these girls?” I answered frankly, because I reckoned they’re holed up in Dunclug, that I wasn’t that worried. “That makes three of us,” says he.
Then there was the serious one who wanted photos and a detailed description. We ask residents a lot of questions but not what height they are or what colour their eyes are. Probably we should plus take mug shots. What were they wearing? I don’t know, I didn’t see them leave. They were wearing spide clothes. We had two goths once who went missing and that was great. Spotted within moments. It was the fluorescent pink hair and black lipstick and one of them being pregnant that did the trick. Then there was the sergeant who must have got the stripes pretty recently because he was very thorough. Missed absolutely nothing as we inspected their rooms. After he left my colleague said, “Do you know you’ve got your top on inside out?”
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