in late night neighbour news:
The deaf old git downstairs had a bath tonight then decided he couldn't get out of it. I only discovered this about 30 mins ago having heard him merrily banging the life out of it with his stick in an attempt to attract some attention.
So I nipped out to check he was ok. it was then he inferred, through his bathroom window, it was my fault he had been stuck in there all that time since 9pm because I hadn't heard the old differ knocking seven bells out of his bathroom suite.
I was like "orly" and, on finding I couldn't gain access to his gaff, had to call the police. They arrived swiftly and broke in with all the finesse of a council estate smackhead and fetched him out. He complained at anyone who would listen so they got the ambulance people to come and babysit.
They're still there now. Hearing the conversation as clearly as I can while now, myself, safely tucked up in bed, reminds me how thin these walls and floors are here.
He's fine though. just after a bit of attention by the sounds of it. Yet another example of why I hope I don't end up that frail and hopeless when I'm his age.
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