Transport Planner or Social Worker or Detective? Not a lot of Transport Planning

I spent this morning on the hunt for two stolen mobility scooters, not returned by the same gentleman to Torquay and Paignton shopmobilities on two consecutive days (before one shop had time to warn the other). How this gentlemen got a membership card when he is apparently of no fixed abode defeats me, but apparently he had sufficient ID from a former life to convince the volunteer.
The police didn’t seem to be very interested, but luckily we have other means. One scooter was spotted abandoned in Preston, Paignton, by a man who works at an associated mobility business. No keys but it had gained an empty bottle of sherry.
Then I put a call out to the Council’s Operational services, Car Parks, CCTV and Highways departments about the Torquay scooter and within 5 minutes it was confirmed found Wednesday evening by Parks Dept. All identification had been removed and it had received a good kicking, but there it was in the garden of an old people’s home, where it had been pushed for safety by the man from the Parks Department. Now safely returned to the shop for some TLC. There’s one membership that will be cancelled.

Then for lunch I had been invited to La Scala in Paignton for Neil’s birthday. Neil is one of the leading lights in the Learning Disability fraternity, with whom we have done some transport work, and very charming. I picked him up from the day centre and drove to the restaurant where he was greeted like family by the couple running it. However, it was just me and him for lunch, as two others didn’t show, but it all went swimmingly, discussing the complexities of textspeak, and the lives of his friends and relations and the difficulties of travelling around when you go nowhere unescorted. Perhaps we laughed too loudly when a tray of bottled water split while being unloaded from the van, spreading broken glass and water over the carpet, but at least Neil avoided the Spag Bol, whuch last time he managed, with great hilarity, to spread over most of the restaurant, apparently. At the end, our hosts brought a birthday cake with candles and the whole restaurant sang Happy Birthday (well, me, the hosts, and the two women in the corner). Cuddles all round, even the strangers. Then I took him back to the Day Centre.
The afternoon spent checking that the volunteers at the shops were happy with the return of their scooters (the boss of the Torquay shop, with the damaged scooter, a little less happy, obviously), a bit of pretending to look at my intray, and then off home for tea (well, the pub on the Back Beach at Teignmouth, actually).
If this carries on, I will have to start wearing jeans to the office, start bringing work home with me, and become appalling at record keeping and computers, just like a real social worker (I know, I once lived with one. Being of the male persuasion, I wouldn't have to start wearing swirly skirts etc., thankfully).