Nicked

I've just had a bit of an eventful night. At about 5 this morning I performed my first citizen's arrest (sort of) for a crime that was rather bizarre.

Initially I had got out of bed to visit the bathroom. Whilst in there I could hear lots of gravel scraping sounds coming from outside. Thinking that a pesky pigeon was having a bath in my guttering I quietly opened the window, only to see two hooded figures in my neighbour's front garden. They were picking up handfuls of gravel and putting it into a rather large bag that was nearby.

I immediately awoke Mrs TBF (who was not amused) for her to phone Plod and, putting on a dressing gown and trainers, I ventured outside. They didn't see me coming until the last minute where upon they tried to run off. One got away but I managed to trip up the other one and when he fell I promptly sat on him.

Amazingly, the Police response was impressive, two plod cars turned up in under a minute and a half - which is just as well as sitting on a Polish (I think) chap in the middle of the road wearing only a dressing gown at 5 in the morning was getting a tad cold.

Naturally all the commotion and blue flashing lights woke half the street up, who being inquisitive emerged from their homes to see what all the fuss was about, some of whom I never spoken to before - it's one way to meet people I suppose.

So I apprehended a thief, met some neighbours who I haven't spoken to before and got a free beer from my neighbour out of it. Not a bad night's work.

But it still prompts the question, why gravel?