Or: A Polite Awakening at a Rude Hour
Or: Facebook Ruined My Sleep
Last night, I heard the doorbell in the Wrong Hours of the night - the dark, cold, where-am-I-hours.
Then a knock, then the doorbell again.
I briefly considered ignoring it, relying on the many locks and doors, before realising I wasn't going to get back to sleep after that interruption.
It was the Police, looking for a Certain Person, who had apparently used Facebook as a means for threatening suicide. The recipient was so disturbed by the message that they mobilised the police service to locate persons of That Name and check on their safety and well-being.
One such person had apparently resided in my house some months ago. The tall gentlemen in the STAB jackets were very apologetic about awakening me - but given the Mercy Mission nature of their visit, one could hardly complain, feeling sympathy for those folk across the country being similarly awoken.
This morning, a scan of the news sites contains no mention of this, so I can only hope for a happy ending.