To catch a thief ... or not.

Crouch End high street, yesterday afternoon. I walk into Tesco and see two security guards wrestling with a guy who has been caught stealing. He escapes onto the street and they wonder aloud whether they should call the police but seem in no hurry to do so. I follow the same man into Boots, where he proceeds to steal again. I let a member of staff know, he spies on the thief then pounces on him outside the store, managing to retrieve the stolen goods. But the thief walks free. I say to the Boots guy shouldn't we call the police? He says no, they will want video evidence and won't want to do anything. He seems to speak from bitter experience. I watch the thief walk around a bit longer, in no particular hurry, and then get on a bus.

Welcome to modern Britain where customers and concerned citizens get treated like criminals but thieves receive amazing customer service.

"I been away a long time"

... as the taciturn Native American says at the end of One flew over the cuckoo's nest.

Yes indeed. I've been institutionalised in the madhouse of modern-day consumerism, too mentally deranged by it all to summon up the will to blog.

As WB Yeats put it, "the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity." How conceited to assume I am one of the "best". But plenty of "passionate intensity" coming from those call centres and their affronted, can't-do staff.

Anyway, I really don't know where to begin to capture the raging torrent of customer nightmares (and a few glimmers of light amidst the darkness) that have passed under this particular bridge since I last blogged here.

I'll take a deep breath and get back to you.