Oh these vandals!

I entered the up-market mall where I was to meet a group of friends and decided to use the loo first. I pulled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. It was then that I saw the notice

“Dear customer, due to repeated acts of vandalism we are sorry to inform you that the toilets will be locked. You can get the keys from the management.”

I stood in shock and annoyance. Vandals! Again! Just who ARE these horrible people? Why do they insist on making life hard for us ordinary, law-abiding folk? Now, thanks to the mysterious vandals I would have to walk up to the nearest waitress and make it abundantly clear to everyone that I needed to use the washroom.

The key would probably be attached to a key holder the size of a plate from ancient Aztec civilisation. Those key holders, on a serious note, apart from the risk of causing bodily harm like knocking out teeth, are designed to embarrass their users.

BEHOLD, these key holders proclaim from the rooftops, HEREIN STANDS A PERSON IN NEED OF THE TOILET. OBSERVE THEM, AND KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THEY ARE ABOUT TO DO.

No no no, it’s not all in my head. This, dear reader, is the kind of embarrassment and indignity caused by vandals. VANDALS! They steal manhole covers and leave innocent wananchi to fall in, breaking limbs and providing endless sadistic entertainment for louts and idlers.

Vandals! They go for a short call then carry the rest of the mega-sized toilet paper home, maybe to decorate themselves with during weddings, who knows? They are the crudest of the crude, the lowest of the low.

My father once told me a story that brought home to me the seriousness of vandalism in our society. In the building where he works, a man was caught trying to sneak out with the ceramic cover of a WC toilet tank under his jacket. A ceramic cover!!! Unless the jacket had pockets as deep as the Indian Ocean, the man must have been insane to think he wouldn’t get noticed. Vandals! I rest my sorry case.