“Do you live here?” he said aggressively
“Have you known for any tyres to be slashed here before?”
No says I
“Well my van and two other cars were hit during the night. It must be because we are parked here. I live around the corner.”
OK, sorry to hear that. Sorry for the trouble.
“It’s obviously a local ‘cos they wouldn’t have done just one on each car otherwise.”
Sure, says I, sorry for the trouble you’ve had, fumbling for the key and giving herself a look that might suggest bemusement if I knew what that looked like.
She went out five minutes later and tried to determine what had happened. I asked myself when I followed her about two minutes later. His van’s tyre had been spiked “by a screwdriver” and two others two and he was well pissed off. Understandable really because he only lives around the corner and only parked at the gable end of this house because space was tight near his own.
Two nights later, a local tradesman’s van’s tyre was spiked probably “by a screwdriver” when parked overnight in the same spot adjacent to our own front door. Either I am a bad sleep walker or someone whose gable end it is just stepped up the parking wars that have been bubbling under these last few months.
We live on a narrow road, some of which has ample parking on both sides of the road, some of which does not and other areas which are marked with double yellow lines – generally ignored. It got so bad before Christmas that our neighbours extended the double yellow lines near their own house by painting on the road itself, badly and tapering, probably drunk while doing it. Between this and the MOHAMMAD poster up the road, you’d think it was Dublin 12 we were living in.
Enough already with the tyre spiking.