Wizzy 

Wizzy’s Wackyweed.....HELL ON WHEELS

The Tale of the Bundled Burglary.

Sorry folks, you are stuck with having to listen to the Wizard's rambling insanity this week.  Wizzy has her hands full with her "little" l00lb. puppy.  Get well soon Wizzy Marie. 

Let me first say that a balaclava is not a Greek Dessert.  It's a ski mask.  Sorry it's a Canadian thingy....deal with it.  <g> 

Now on with the story: 

I am in fact my own Avery Stevens: Maintenance Wizard.  Some of the stories are real, some are fictional, but I am having fun in writing them.  I don't work for a big corporation in downtown Toronto, but do work for three bank branches looking after their maintenance.  There is only one of them that has a security company and each night I have to punch in my code in order to carry on with my night.  But this one night, something happened to change all of that.... 

As usual, I unlocked the bank door, entered into it only to hear the sound of the alarm going off.  I went over to the annoying little beige coloured box and punched in my code, expecting it to change it's song and dance with a different beeping.  Unfortunately, it didn't.  It just stood on the wall, completely dead, it's little green screen showing nothing.  "This isn't good."  I said to the little box and tried to unlock the security system again.  Nothing.   Hum........well let's try locking it......nothing.   Now somewhere between wanting to get on with my nights work and reality, it hit me............"I wonder if silent alarms are actually silent?" 

Well guess what...they are.  In an effort to come up with an answer to this dilemma, I dialled the home phone number of one of the women who use to work at the branch, but is now at Admin. office.   

"Houston, we have a problem, I told the lady on the other end of the phone line." 

"Yes Pat, the security company has already called me and are dispatching the police." 

"The police!"  I yelped.  "Oh great, I'm a bank robber now and get to spend the rest of my evening holding off "Big Bertha." 

I hung up the phone and called my girlfriend. "Honey, how are we for bail money?"  I asked.   

"What the f**k did you do now?"  Sally was not amused and told me I was shit out of luck for bail money from her. 

I explained my story as the police car approached the bank.  "Well honey, the cops are here now, I'll send regards from Big Bertha to you." 

I won't type out what her reply was. 

Did I mention yet, I don't even own a balaclava / ski mask ?  Well I don't, and couldn't decide what I was going to tell the cops.  Well as luck would have it, this cop was only interested in finding the nearest Tim Horton's coffee shop and as I waved to him, he drove away.  Now, I ask myself what if someone had a gun pointed to my head and was hiding behind the counter?  Some police protection!  I couldn't win.   

At this point, one of the bank's staff members showed up and came in to fix the situation.  With a simple phone call, and I. D. number she solved the problem and asked me why I hadn't used my I. D. number.   "What I. D. number?  I only talk to the little box every night." 

She suggested I get one from the Admin people and left me to my work.  Wow, bright thinking I said to myself.   

I looked around for the 3 Stooges to show up next, figuring my night couldn't get any more comical, but they didn't so I carried on. 

All this and Friday night.  What a way to start the weekend. 

I'm sure Big Bertha misses me.  <g> 

 tap, the wizard.