Wednesday, 23 December 2009

BUST A MOVE

You may have noticed I've been taking a long sojourn away from the blogosphere. It wasn't intentional, honest, it's just I've regretfully been without internet access for a while due to the fact I've recently moved house. As a result, blogging hasn't exactly been on top of my to-do list. Instead, I've been extremely busy assembling furniture and unpacking all my shizzle, as Snoop Dogg would say.


Everything seems to be OK with my new home, apart from a temperamental boiler, a faulty letterbox which I've had to cellotape up and stick together with blue tac, and a leaky sink. Oh, and a dodgy plughole in the bathroom. Still, you can't have everything right? I know that moving house at Christmas time can be a rather foolhardy venture, so it was never destined to be easy, was it, eh?

In fact, in the process of moving house, I skirted the borders of disaster last week. I can well and truly say I discovered the depths to which some people sink, a cruel side to human nature which never ceases to surprise me. I mean, I'd love to wholeheartedly embrace the Christmas spirit – the season of goodwill 'n' all that – and I do, to some degree, but after last week, my balloon of festive cheer was well and truly popped and was replaced with a peppermint hard candy sweet. That's right, a humbug.

You see, we loaded up a van we'd borrowed from our relatives with Tescos bags full of CDs, DVDs, Books, PS3 games, wooden furniture (bookshelves, a dinner chair, other bits of assorted furniture), etc. Trouble is, nobody informed us that the boot of the van is faulty, meaning that it doesn't shut very easily. Even when you think it's locked, it isn't, it's just pretending. As car boots go, it's a bona fide confidence trickster. And nobody warned us about this.

Unfortunately, we found that out the hard way. There I was, driving along, when suddenly the boot of the van swung open and all of our belongings clattered along the road with a mighty crash; CD cases smashed to bits, discs scattered loosely along the road, all items strewn messily 20 metres behind us. The glass on our picture frames – including the frame containing the certificates for our university degrees, sniff sniff – was smashed to bits too. I hope that wasn't a metaphor for something.

Needless to say, what ensued was a rushed panic by myself and my fellow passenger to throw all the items back in the van quickly, but holding up the traffic was unavoidable. The drivers behind us didn't have much sympathy either; one obese lady laughed maniacally as she drove past, clearly finding something amusing; and somebody purposefully drove over a bit of our furniture out of clear spite. It's probably not fit for firewood now.

But what of the pedestrians, you ask? They did nothing. Some people stood by and watched, but not one person offered to help us. It was only until we'd finished throwing everything back in the van that a lady told us that somebody had stolen some of our items and ran off with them. At which point, I pretty much lost all faith in humanity.

I've since discovered that the thieving git has made off with a bag full of books. Not exactly the most glittering bounty in the world admittedly, some of the literature contained therein was more sentimental in value than anything else. A Roald Dahl omnibus book was nicked – a gift given to me as a child – and my girlfriend's Enid Blyton book (Faraway Tree Stories) given to her by her grandmother was also half-inched.

Ironically, another missing book just so happens to be The Prince by Machiavelli, so it's probably fair to assume that the thieving git is probably halfway to becoming an evil genius already. Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts has also gone AWOL, which just so happens to be about a convicted bank robber and a heroin addict. Hmm, could this end up being the path this filthy tea leaf ends up travelling down? I wouldn't be surprised if that fate awaits him (or her); after all, the incident did happen on the cusp of Northdown Road, a veritable shanty town of drugs, crime, alcohol and debauchery.

Nonetheless, it's appalling that someone just scavenges someone else's goods from under their noses like bloody vermin. I don't why I'm surprised really, but maybe it's because it never occurs to me that other people can be so devoid of morals, so lacking a sense of human decency, that they can't think of nothing but selfishness. They must live pretty hollow lives. If I had been walking along the road and it happened to somebody else, I would have gladly offered to help. And, I can guarantee you, I wouldn't have stooped so low to steal from them and done a bunk.

Call me old-fashioned, but I'd like to think I'm a nice bloke, and I try my best to treat others like I myself would expect to be treated. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the scumbags who either stood by and did nothing, laughed at us, or stole from us. As much as it pains me to say it, those people are beneath my contempt at the moment, if only because the whole incident has made me so angry that I'm beginning to doubt whether anyone has a decent bone in their body at all. Still, I should at least be thankful it was only small (and relatively affordable) items, and not our HD TV, Sony sound system and our laptops, eh? That would've been truly devastating...

I guess if this whole thing teaches me anything, it's that nice people – even at Christmas time – are few and far between. The people I encountered that day appeared to be selfish, primal, despicable creatures (or shrinking violet types who stood by and did nothing) to whom life is comparable to a TV show which they can passively detach themselves from, without thought or consideration for anyone else's wellbeing other than their own. I hope that these people get what's coming to them – what comes around goes around, after all. In conclusion, clearly, some people are scum. Except the people who read this blog, of course. Well, at least I'd hope so anyway.

5 comments:

  1. You sure you're being straight with us?

    I'm sure you've been working overtime at the BBC as I've seen you in Mock the Week and Live on Stage recently!

    You even have another website:

    http://www.russell-howard.co.uk/

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  2. Haha, I wish. I can't quite see the comparison, but I welcome it. I can only hope my eyes aren't as boss-eyed as Russell's.

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  3. I'm sorry to read that you've had such a naff experience of human nature. There are good people out there but sadly the goodness of humanity is often tempered with greed and selfishness especially when times are hard.

    On the bright side Christmas is often a time to take a few weeks off of the old blogging anyway.

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  4. sorry to hear your problems. I must say someone one said to me as I stood in B&Q in Dover about 30 years ago "It never ceases to amaze me" wot say I " human nature and how low it can go" it made a lasting impression on me so much so I am never amazed but I am often bewildered

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  5. So sorry to hear of your upsetting incidence. Just wish I had been following you, as I am another always there to help anyone, spend most of my life sorting out problems for others, but this year almost lost my good samaritan part of me, I had my wheel trims stolen, windscreen wipers wrenched and broken off the car, then to cap it all was mugged in Ramsgate high street at 1.30pm day time.
    I have decided to stay the person I have always been stay nice and helpful to others, as, bringing myself down to the level of some others would only make me feel bad about myself. I haven't much money, but loads of self respect which is worth all the money in the world.
    Please don't change, perhaps this happened for a reason, but you should learn by this and stay a good person.
    Happy Christmas.
    C Russell

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