You know that I am taking part in the Great Census Collection at the moment and basically it's okay. The weather has been nice and the people I've met have been friendly and helpful. Overall I've enjoyed it a lot. Apart from the time I got frightened that I might end up being eaten with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
This Titanic city of ours is dirty and shabby but we have pride in it, even transplanted Northerners like me. I've mentioned before the malignant Northern city where I was born - it's like the Wild West - and what happened last night would have been par for the course there, but the Beautiful South? It's opened my eyes, I can say.
I've been lucky enough to get a nice area down by the river so I've had houseboats to call on and nice views - really glorious with the warm weather - but it also includes quite a lot of flats. I had to call at two flats within one block and rang both bells - no response. A family came along and let me into the block which is small and quite new. As I got to the first flat (the two I needed were next door to each other) I saw that the door had been kicked in and repaired. Oh-oh, thought I. I knocked on the door and there was immediately the sound of claws on the floor at the other side then something threw itself at the door with all its strength - all I could hear was growling and scratching. Obviously I stood to the side when this started, just in case the dog (werewolf? lion?) was able to get through. Just as well because the next thing I heard was a gun being racked (is that what it's called, when it goes, 'ker-crack'?) - a sound I recognised only too well from my CI5 days. A man called through the door 'who is it?' to which I tremulously replied 'I'm from the National Census...we don't seem to have a completed form from you'. All this time the Beast from Hell was throwing itself at the door. 'Oh right, Carol...come and sort the census out'. A woman came to the door and said, from the other side, 'Erm, yeah, I just rang them today for a new copy' (a likely story). I said that I could give her a new one right there and then. Silence. 'Oh....okay then'. So I pushed one, with difficulty, through the letter box. There was a lull in the panting, sniffing, whining and snarling whilst the animal the other side slavered and drooled over the census form. And probably tore it to shreds for fun. 'Thanks for your time' I said as I edged down the stairs. I think I might mark that as a 'Do Not Visit'....leave it for the census enforcers maybe.
The funny thing is though, I was alarmed and a bit taken aback but not really frightened. Of course I played it up when I got home but as the general consensus was that I was being ridiculous (they weren't even there! How would they know???) I've quietly let it drop. I know you'll all believe me, but where's Jodie Bodie when I really need her?