Seventy-two hours prior to Halloween and on the very day it was announced that the Police would get extra training and weaponry to deal with a Mumbai style terrorist attack, it was understandable that I jumped two feet into the air, when what I thought could have been a masked raider silently strode into the depot at 7.30am. It was dark and this rainsoaked figure looked menacing in his fluorescent yellow jacket and motor cycle helmet.
I positioned myself close to the buckets and mops which seemed to be the only forms of self defence within reach. Quite how much damage I would have done to the assailant is highly debateable. I suppose the only consolation would have been that the Police would be given a lead to go on - a man in a motorcycle helmet who smelt of Flash floor cleaner.
I felt a little more at ease when I saw a pair of steamed up glasses beneath the visor. The figure grunted, raised a hand, before disappearing into a dark corner of the depot. It was just the new driver - Hiram B. Birdbath (with apologies to the moderately successful racehorse of the same name).
I needn't have worried. It was another bizarrely different start to the day.
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