bait and wait

A few weeks ago I had a mild scare one morning when I arrived at the office and did not find my shoes in their usual place immediately above my locker. My initial thought was that someone had stolen them (it has happened though not to me and it was trainers rather than work shoes but still) and that (though I would get to wear comfortable trainershoes that day) I'd have to eventually buy some more office-shoes, never a pleasing task at the best of times. After a few seconds' search I found them beneath the bench thing but when it happened again a couple of days later it was again a mildly unpleasant surprise. It's been happening with increasing frequency since so last night I tied the laces together and poked them through some little airholes at the back of the locker. This morning all the other shoes were on top of the bench whilst mine remained atop the lockers (though not without some tightened knots indicating an experimental tug or two on the part of the would-be poltergeist.

This evening I felt a more obvious tactic might be employed. I'll maybe expand on it next week with a sign saying "WHY?" bulldog-clipped to the heel. I could understand someone getting concerned about muddy lunchtime-run-shoes dripping muddy canal-water into someone's locker but work shoes are relatively harmless and are themselves likely to be dripped into by damp lunchtime-running-wear if they are put beneath the hanging rail. In any case there are far worse things than muddy shoes in the changing room. MUCH worse. What has two legs and smells?

Eco-Dad called from his relatively light and airy wing of the office this morning to point out a picture-op on the back of the Caledonian Hotel. He mentioned the other day that he is considering joining... if he reads this and would care to register I can lend him an old phonecam to use until he chooses a propercamera and donate the picture-op he pointed out this morning as a starter-pic... go on go on go on... It would be a pleasant change if someone I've Blipcarded decided to join. As well as being generally disappointing it also sadly means that no-one who has stayed in the cottage in Northumberland my family stayed in last September has bothered to play Scrabble or read the old medical encyclopaedia, as least not enough to find the blipcards in the letter-bag and between a couple of the pages.

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