NO RENT BLUES

~ Landlord Whine ~

My script to a T.

Our hitherto trustworthy tenant in the cottage has done a bunk and left a few gaps.

Also a whole lotta mess outside his bijou accom.

Also a ton of good stuff and his precious car which his spurned girlfriend intends to sell. Apparently, when our lad set off for England - unannounced to all - he was passengering a little chickadee he told his lady he'd jettisoned full six months ago.

As the gods would have it, I have a policier pal who adores maman and has let her know that if there's anything he can do ....

I met him for coffee with his thuggo fuzz mates and explained all.

Ma foi! But Christo, did I not remember him telling me he had a good friend who was looking for a rental and had commented on the cottage as most desirous? His beat is the marina precinct stretching to the mean streets of Dasia and his girlfriend worked at the hospital.

Location location location.

I told him I was just worried that chummy might come knocking at midnight and threaten a bit of bovver.

"You have my number. Put it on speed dial. As soon as he comes, call me. Even if he is peaceful, call me. Must be safe."

There was a little more banter among his cronies who stared stony-faced at me thru their Raybans, making it clear they werent interested in a single thing I was selling.

POLICE PAL: "I dont tell my friend yet. He will want to help your friend make a good choice and not stay."

The sort of buddies that make one want to sip on a fifth of bourbon, sit back and play some gentle guitar.