Incident at Iris

My delicate sensibilities are overwhelmed, appalled at the depravity of human nature. It's as though crime within the peaceful community of Melton/Welton was mere antipasti to the dark morass of prima patti to follow, shards of shocking behaviour cutting through the fringes of my civilised existence as a drama queen par excellence.

My parents are harbouring a fugitive, with a degree of unconcern to render those this side of the Suez wide eyed with horror. The renegade in question; Amit. Pint sized, deeply aggressive, with a cannibalistic edge to his small man syndrome. Their chauffeur. The Managing Committee of Iris co-operative housing society has decreed that they 'except you to release this troublemaker or we will be constrained to ban his entry'. Undaunted, Minu the Brave haggles as is her mettle, and cowers them into a months' suspension.

I demand details, putting aside my primness and am rewarded with the elucidation that apparently, Amit bit the alleged victim. Twice. Riiiight! The letter from the society is even more revealing. The offender, showed up on his day off, drunk, and proceeded without any mercy or provocation to attack the driver of flat 46 (Central Bank of India). Mr. Lallan, the lift man, foolishly intervened and was duly bitten on the calves (?!!?) and fingers for his peacekeeping efforts. Amit the Small, remained unimpressed by the presence of two committee members, and continued on his drunken rampage, showing a marked lack of respect for the fine gentlemen. Lallan, who by now was rumoured to be bleeding profusely, needed medical attention. My parents have been asked in no uncertain terms to compensate for the medical expenses incurred with the strong admonishment, "We are hopeful that you will comply gracefully".

My mother is not a graceful woman. The indefatigable one is not one to rest on her laurels, and ensnares Mimi as a willing cohort to try and further circumvent the society's directives. The rascal can report to Persepolis for the missing month. But wait, the car is still at Iris, and given his persona non grata status for 30 days, my mother would then have to manhandle the car outside the hallowed precincts before Amit the Small could take cover. Unsound. Perhaps they could swap cars, and then she'd only have to walk as far as the building gate and have him pick her up? Uh oh.... I feel myself drawn into this criminal quagmire, the dark side calls to me... Maaaa! Wait for me....

P.S. - penned notes on the complaint letter; Your driver has got a very bad background, he has no family.....
Pity we don't have that as a fallback excuse :p