‘Husband seat' sitter follows suspicious man, mistaken for suspect

NZ Herald

11-08-2025

As an experienced Husband Seat Sitter – I have a cap with the initials HSS on it – I know you have to keep your mind occupied in such times of crisis. That's because there's no telling how long you are going to be out there.
It could be hours. And you can't move. Do so, even to grab a quick coffee from that place just up the road, and you risk missing She Who Must Be Obeyed when she nips out to get you and take you back in to have a look at something because she needs your opinion.
Then you're in big trouble.
But I digress.
So, I'm sitting there the other day and I'm running through the usual things I do to keep my mind occupied.
I'd already gone through the list of World Cup winners from 1987 onwards and songs with the name of a US state in them – Carolina In My Mind and all that – and I see this bloke acting a little dodgy in between the row of parked cars in front of me.
As I watched, he's wandered in and out casually looking in the back and, more than once, trying a door handle.
As I'm sure I've mentioned before, I'm a big believer in getting involved and not leaving everything to the cops. With that in mind, I've decided to go in for a closer look.
So, as he's working his way along a row of maybe 12 cars, I've got up out of the Husband Seat and wandered casually as I can up the row towards him.
As I go, I'm trying to see what he's doing without being noticed.
I'm not sure if you've tried that yourself but if you have, I'm sure you'll agree it's not that easy. You sort of have to look past the subject in question but look at him/her at the same time, noting distinguishing features – eye patch, scar across cheek, green hair ... that sort of thing.
Anyway.
I've closed the gap between Dodgy Guy and myself to about a car length now. He's looked in my direction a couple of times but I've managed to look away just at the right time.
I'm worried next time he'll twig to the fact he's being watched and make off. So I go all Jason Bourne and turn my back to him, hoping the reflection in the shop window I'm staring at will work just as well.
It does. Apart from the fact I'm now staring hard out at a lingerie collection in the window of the womenswear shop I'm outside.
Note to self: Mrs P has a birthday coming up. Ahem.
Suddenly realising how odd I must look, I turn round to face Dodgy Guy again only to find him staring straight at me.
This time I look past him and wave out to an imaginary contact across the street but it's no good. I've been rumbled.
Dodgy Guy walks away. So I decide to follow, trying to stay maybe a discreet 15 yards behind.
To be honest, I'm not even sure why I followed him. I'm not as young as I used to be so I don't know if I would have tackled him. Maybe I'd have shouted at him if he'd had success breaking into a car. Who knows.
It seemed like I was following him for ages but in reality I'd say it was maybe five minutes, but it must have looked very weird to anybody watching.
He crossed the road twice and each time he did so I followed, looking away whenever he checked behind him.
Eventually he turned a corner and in the two-and-a-half seconds he was out of sight, he bolted. When I turned the corner, he was 50 yards away on his toes. He knew full well he'd been spotted.
At that point I gave up and went back to the Husband Seat.
That's when my tale of well-meaning took an interesting turn.
No sooner had I sat down, a police car turned up and a very pleasant young lady hopped out and came over to talk to me.
It seems she'd been nearby and there had been a report of a man matching my description behaving strangely in the street so she'd come to check me out.