The need to speed

Stop or I'll shoot.

My dear wife is always looking for new distractions to help me fill my time while she slaves away, earning the monthly salary that is keeping me in the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed.

Her latest suggestion came as a result of an advertisement she spotted in this month’s parish magazine. “Here you go,” she said. “The village is looking for people to volunteer for the Community Speedwatch.”

You know the sort – busybodies with too much time on their hands and an overwhelming feeling of self-importance.

Now I don’t really know why she thought of me but I am truly grateful, for it sounds right up my street.

As I pondered the idea it reminded me of a story from ages ago about some residents of a West Yorkshire village who were asked to take to the streets armed with a hairdryer in an attempt to prevent motorists speeding.

Anyway, I digress. I know our Speedwatch team uses a proper speed gun to deter people from speeding through our sleepy village. And as I assume you get a proper uniform, a Taser and the right of arrest and detention, not just a reflective vest (yellow is SO yesterday) my application is on the way.

Wish me luck.