They call it parkour. Apparently the idea is to get from point A to point B in the fastest possible manner, without using any equipment. As far as I was concerned it also meant getting from point A to point B in the most dangerous manner possible. Still, I wasn't doing it and the people who were, were considered to be functional adults, so good luck to them.
I did have one minor gripe about some of the runners who did this stuff. My place abutted a park that they cut across, which meant that a number of players would also go over my fence and across my yard on the way to their next challenge. There was no way that my fences were considered a challenge as the players could just fly over them without even slowing down.
All bar one, it turned out. I was sitting on my back veranda one evening, enjoying a beer in the twilight, when these parkour idiots came flying over my fence and across my yard or, I should say in one specific case, nearly came flying over my fence. It seems to me that if you're doing a lot of running, and jumping, and climbing, and shit like that you'd dress for running, and jumping, etcetera. To me that meant trousers of some kind, not a dress, which would tend to leave your nether regions exposed in some situations.
Such a situation had just arisen for the young lady who came over the fence, with her dress snagging on something on top of the fence. A good quality dress it was, too, as it didn't tear. A pretty decent fence, as well, as it didn't break. The upshot was that the young lass was left hooked on the fence, her dress dragged up under her armpits, holding her quite comfortably as she dangled there.
I suppose if one of the others had paused to assist she'd have been fine, but they didn't. It is a competitive sport. Alternatively, if she'd been left to herself she might have managed to wriggle out of the dress and drop to the ground, whereupon said dress would have been unsnagged and put back on. Unfortunately she wasn't left to herself. I was there.
I strolled over to say hullo, admiring the long legs and shapely hips that were on display, nicely covered by a pair of lacy panties, panties that some might have considered to be on the skimpy side. I didn't consider them so but I suspect that the owner did.
"Good evening," I said jovially. "Somewhat rotten luck, don't you know? Another couple of inches and your feet would have been on the ground. It's surprising what a difference a couple of inches makes."
"Very funny," she griped. "Would you please help me get down?"
"Why? You got yourself up there. I'm more inclined to just leave you dangling while I call the police to come and remove a suspicious trespasser. I mean, you don't have a valid legal reason to be dangling from my fence do you?"
"The police? You wouldn't." She sounded quite shocked.
"Why not? You idiots tend to ruin my gardens when you trample across them. I'm looking at getting a dog to chase you idiots away. I'm really rather tired of your impolite antics."
"That wasn't me. This is my first time out. I've never done this before."
I could almost hear the mental 'and never again if I can help it' in the tone of her voice.
"I wouldn't worry too much. The cops would only give you a talking to and take you home and grumble to your parents. Your parents might ground you for a while. Pity you weren't grounded tonight, isn't it?"
I glanced at the ground just below her dangling feet with a smile. She glared at me, apparently not finding me amusing.
"I don't live with my parents," she snapped. "I moved out when I turned eighteen."
"In which case the police would just growl a bit and kick you out of the station, after having an amusing time writing up the incident."
"Will you please stop ogling my legs and help me down?" she demanded, sounding a little frustrated.
"First things first. I'm David, and you are???"
"Michelle."
"Right, Michelle. Now as I was saying, first things first and I like looking at your legs. They're very attractive. I'd like to see more of them."
"There isn't any more that you could see, damn you."
