On returning to my Mercedes E Class Estate parked in a busy Brighton Multistorey yesterday after a family Christmas outing, I was horrified to find one of the rear windows totally gone.
Looking inside, twinkling in acres of my pale grey leather back seat was a mountain of smashed glass.
We had just walked miles through the icy wind and rain to get to the car and the thought of a 30- mile trip home without a side window didn't fill us with pleasure.
I opened the driver's door to see what had been stolen and strangely enough, not a lot. Actually, nothing; Tom Tom was still there, my little box of £1 coins was still there, my Persol sunglasses were still there.
"Porridge, Dad.", my son said.
"You what?" I said.
"Porridge, mixed with glitter. It's porridge mixed with glitter to make it look like smashed glass. It's not glass at all! ".
Upon further inspection, all over the back seat was indeed, dried porridge oats mixed with glitter. (In an underground car park you couldn't tell the difference between that and smashed glass.)
The plot thickened.
I put the key into the ignition and pressed the rear window switch. The window whirred up back into place, in perfect condition.
We all looked at each other.
Then all around us to see if we were being filmed.
No-one around. Not a sausage.
We all laughed out loud and gave the thumbs up to anyone who might have ben video-ing us or watching from afar.
I left the car locked and alarmed, with all the windows shut.
It's a Merc. It's easier to break into Fort Knox. (or so I thought).
Brilliant prank.
What a relief, though.
I had to laugh.
Any idea how it was done?
Looking inside, twinkling in acres of my pale grey leather back seat was a mountain of smashed glass.
We had just walked miles through the icy wind and rain to get to the car and the thought of a 30- mile trip home without a side window didn't fill us with pleasure.
I opened the driver's door to see what had been stolen and strangely enough, not a lot. Actually, nothing; Tom Tom was still there, my little box of £1 coins was still there, my Persol sunglasses were still there.
"Porridge, Dad.", my son said.
"You what?" I said.
"Porridge, mixed with glitter. It's porridge mixed with glitter to make it look like smashed glass. It's not glass at all! ".
Upon further inspection, all over the back seat was indeed, dried porridge oats mixed with glitter. (In an underground car park you couldn't tell the difference between that and smashed glass.)
The plot thickened.
I put the key into the ignition and pressed the rear window switch. The window whirred up back into place, in perfect condition.
We all looked at each other.
Then all around us to see if we were being filmed.
No-one around. Not a sausage.
We all laughed out loud and gave the thumbs up to anyone who might have ben video-ing us or watching from afar.
I left the car locked and alarmed, with all the windows shut.
It's a Merc. It's easier to break into Fort Knox. (or so I thought).
Brilliant prank.
What a relief, though.
I had to laugh.
Any idea how it was done?
