dutch army-men with nothing to do
We lived for an anti-squatting agency in a building on an abandoned millitary compound; very nice old buildings, mostly monuments. The entrance gate was maintained and the former guards employed so none of it would be vandalised. We were told we should try to get along with them; because, after all, they were going to be our "neighbours". These two middle-aged army-men would start their working day at 0600 by landing their fat arse on a chair in the boot next to the gate and glaring mistrustfully in our direction. At 0800 we'd wanted to go to our work and drive up in the direction of the gate. They'd open it (electronically). We'd come closer. They'd close it. We'd back up. They'd open it. And close it. And open it. And (*&*&^& it. This ritual was repeated at 1800 when we wanted back in. At 2230 they'd walk about our corridors with a flashlight to see if we weren't up to any misschief. People (acquaintances, friends, mum) not in their files were taken back for questioning (something down the likes of 'did you have sexual intercourse with this woman'). At 2300 their work day ended. They kept a tab on our use of water and electricity. They said we overheated the place. They walked in at 0700, found us "frollocking in our underwear", deducted that we did that because we were just so bleedin hot and turned of the heating. In December. We tried to explain that in order to get dressed in clean clothes every morning, first you have GOT to take some of, but they said we were just trying to talk our energywasting ass out of it with this fancy schmancy personal hygiene propaganda. My friend and I became verbally hostile. The next morning (such a coincidence) there was an unexpected millitary exercise which included our kitchen, small amounts of dynamite, twenty armed and gasmasked men, four aggressive german shepherds and -of course- a small horse.
After that things only escalated.
(muis, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 17:41, Reply)