Wife of the Missing Journalist

They can’t say that, how come they say that?

The journalist’s wife sends another volley at the ECO. Well, ECO can say anything, don’t you know they got diplomatic immunity? I ask. Well they got diplomatic idiocy, I am telling you… She is not happy.

Each week I get to hear about half a dozen of these grievances, and my toes curl each time the phone rings on those red letter days. Hell, another one. But how can I complain, nobody asked me to become a visa consultant. Groping in the dark, I found this one and held onto it tenaciously. Come light, you find out what a monster you got there. Once a king somewhere asked Hercules to bring Cerberus, the dog of the underworld. When the beast was actually presented to the king, he realised what a mistake it was to bring this lovely creature to this side of the wall, and wisely requested from Hercules to take it back to where it was in pronto. Except I have no place to take my Cerberus.

Each day I find that level of idiocy among the ECO clan is on the rise, more than once I was asked where they come from. Ah, Surbiton I guess, I retort. So where is Surbiton? What’s wrong with that place? Questions are endless. And the answers are limited. No wonder economic theory about satisfying unlimited desires with limited resources got into trouble in its infancy. Surbiton you mean? They ask. Well it’s a nice place to be…. Oh, then why is the ECO such an idiot? Another volley, this one rather directed at me. I was getting the wind of it. She’d let go of the ECO and chase after me instead. “Well you see, HMP Belmarsh is running out of space, those who can be released, but yet too risky to be held in UK are sent here….” “Ha, I see, that explains it. It sounds like an awful place to be, I mean just look at the feller’s attitude”. Yeah, a deeply traumatised bunch of people they are………. I concur.

Chapter Closed, for the time being that is.

(to be continued)