Last night it rained so hard that my trousers were soaked. My bombproof Gore-Tex Ruralshire Constabulary patrol jacket laughed at the rain, but nothing could stop the rebound off the tarmac. I was soaked from the boots upwards. We all know that feeling. Police trousers are heavyweight wool and they don’t like water.
I was out in Sunshine Park with two Constables who were struggling to control a group of five drunken blokes. Each bloke had a stupid, legless mouthy girlfriend. Sunshine Park is on the outskirts of Rural Town. Formally an industrial estate, it now contains the multiplex cinema, a Balkan owned drive-thru takeaway franchise, a huge bowling complex and a couple of theme pub-restaurants.
The whole complex probably cost a good few million to build but there are no CCTV cameras.
Just as one fight ended, it kicked off again further down the row of buildings. The problems at Sunshine Park are the dance floor and late licence at the bowling complex. As I stood in the downpour holding on to ‘the male in the striped shirt with blood on his face’ I couldn’t hear my radio due to the immense noise of Scouting For Girls coming from the complex.
This person is about 19 years old and keeps calling me ‘geezer’ and asking for my opinion on the validity of his actions. He keeps shrugging his shoulders in his deep hoodie and moving around, imitating a prize fighter’s dance on the way to the ring.
“What would you have done geezer?”
“It ain’t right is it!”
“Everyone has a few beers innit geezer”
I stare at him. What is this language he is speaking? He tries to enlist my support again.
“You would have done the same yeah?”
I suddenly think of my answer. “It’s not about me”
“It’s not about me; it’s you”
Re:“It’s not about me; it’s you”.
Another product of a poor genetic inheritance.
Here in Gloucestershire I’ve witnessed attempts to talk like a rapper in these situations, quite laughable when coming from a spotty IC1 youth with an impenetrable west country accent.
Maybe your offender had been watching too many reruns of the Sweeney?
And there is the rub – personal responsibility is about as fashionable as spoken English that does not involve liberal gangsta terminology and a complete absence of prepositions or glottal stops. My dear old mum used to say “people will judge you by the way that you speak” – It’s still true I suppose but I don’t suppose your judgement in this case ruined your “geezers” evening. Oh. my. God. I have turned into my mother……
I have a strange habit when I’m calming a situation of suddenly calling everyone fella. No idea where it comes from. I’m not from Lambeth and I’ve never worn cor blimey trousers but time and again there I am, “alright fella, just calm it down”
Seems to work though.
years ago old bill used to say ‘Blue’, OK Blue, Calm down blue etc. I used to think it was something to do with The High Chapparal (sic) an American western series on BBC2. One of the characters was called ‘blue’. Of course it could have been because of something completely diffferent.
Off to take the tablets and have a nap.
You may not want to read this, and it’s off-topic:#
http://www.teletext.co.uk/news/national/ae999770738635c949b89e3168c243cd/Met+has+30m+in+Iceland+bank.aspx
This is off-topic too and it might make you cry. Or laugh. Or both.
http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/films/1951to1964/filmpage_bpolice.htm
“In this city there are about 100 officers on the beat at one time”.
Rich
Incredible film at that link. I’m not involved in law enforcement but could this still work? seems so sensible to prevent crime rather than just respond to it!
That film appears to show Charles Street Police station in Leicester, and Leicester City Centre.
On another note, telling drunks that Jesus loves them generally gets them to wind their necks in and go home.
Great film, thanks Rich.
I was once on foot patrol in our town centre one weekend and it just wouldnt stop raining. I decided I would wear the issued yellow reflector trousers.
I got a lot of laughs out of the door persons (in a jovial way) and also the drunks thought it was funny! I didnt care; I was dry!
Yep agree with you that they all seem to have mouthy drunken girlfriends/wives. In one night my colleague and me arrested three idiots. All of them female. On another night, we nicked a male for S5 and then a female who was completely unknown to him just walked along and kicked him in the ribs.
Im glad to say I have a mid-20s single daughter who rarely drinks.
Mat@7 , prevention does not create jobs?.
Re 6. What was the Queen doing in Leicester in 1959, he really should not have put his hand on her. Took him about 10 minutes to deal with the burglar, I remember those days.
The pictures look like this summers Climate Camp to me.
Nothing that a Browning Hi-power in the ear wouldn’t cure. It’s amazing the sobering effect of a 9mm in the ear. Miss the brain by about 5′ but never the less….
Sounds like last night for me, albeit from my comfy radio room (ha!). Same pub we were called back to 5 times. Worst drunkard, a 15 year old girl.
Bring back prohibition.
Great video Rich.
busybizzie, also not being from lambeth or an eastenders reject, I use fella a lot as well, especially when people refuse to give me their name. Much better than using mate or pal as both can illicit the response “I ain’t you faaaaarrrrkin MATE”
oh and before anyone says, calling people ‘Sir’ winds them up just as much as they think we’re being sarcastic!!
1.45 start…… do those 15 mins not count as “duty”?…. missing girl helpfully dressed in same clothing and conveniently docile ……. PoliceWOMAN, ffs?……
I clearly saw him touch the cycling girl’s leg, and he terrifired the dear little boy with the toy gun. And not a brown person in sight.
Seems to me some consciousness-raising and diversity training are in order.
One of the many great things about being old is that I actually remember when it really was like that.
Re 6 – It was Charles Street Police Station in Leicester, which has now closed and all the officers moved to a modern office building in the city centre. The place was a maze, all on different levels and when I was there, all manner of extensions tacked on behind the historic façade.
The gate that all the officers were seen spewing out of was closed and another entrance constructed to allow carriers in and out.
The policeman is a friend of the people and he knows that they will always turn to him, without fear or restraint, in their time of need.
And now they’re more likely to turn on him.
I assume that was an Empire propaganda piece, to convince immigrants that the British Bobby was both their best friend and their worst foe.
Didn’t work too well, did it?
Rich- Thanks for posting an excellent link.
I am a serving officer and as I watched that link, I could not help but feel that the Police service should be returning to the values and methods shown in the film.
It is sad to see how far we have fallen.
Last winter I was out on patrol in the city centre. It was a rainy Friday night and the wind was so strong that I had to keep holding my hat onto my head.
The usual hoards had decided to give town a miss because of the horrible weather so my group decided to seek refuge in the van. Naughty, and against the rules of the weekend city centre shift.
After about 45 minutes of gossip, moaning and absolutely nothing happening outside we saw a hi-viz and a flat cap approaching from the end of the road. Eek!
The inspector (it could have been you, boss!) got onto the van and regarded our sergeant with suspicion;
“How long have you been sitting in here?”
“About, er, ten minutes sir”
He grabbed my leg and rubbed it
“Why are this officers trousers dry?!”
“……….”
I always take my waterproofs with me now.
I find it hard not to respond when people ask me what I would do in their situation, though my general rule of not drinking in any pub with a flat roof would probably be unappreciated.
I particularly remember the bloke who’d thrown a just-boiled kettle at his girlfriend, scalding her stomach, who said to me “She was winding me up! What was I supposed to do?!”
oh and before anyone says, calling people ‘Sir’ winds them up just as much as they think we’re being sarcastic!!
It’s a shame that “sir” is rarely used properly now. In addition to other uses it has long been an appropriate form of address for any man with whom one is not personally acquainted no matter what his social standing or disposition. I have even used it when addressing a chap who was assaulting me in the street.
weepeecee
I wouldn’t have grabbed your leg and rubbed it………. with witnesses around!
Lilyofthefield @19
You are wrong- watch the film and you will see that the first person our hero speaks to is a ‘brown person’ alighting from a bus.
I dont see why the wrongly perceived absence of ‘brown people’ is worthy of comment.
I suppose that in these days of PC, my response will be seen as inadequate but I always found that a quick smack with my stick (made of lignum vitae) used to settle the argument quite nicely.
“It’s not about me”
“It’s not about me; it’s you”
I know you meant it as a pun Guv, but i’ve been staring at those lines for at least 5 minutes until I looked up the song and realised that it’s actually “It’s not about you; it’s me.”
Metcunty@17 & 18
That you might describe yourself as anyone’s “mate” , would surely wind them up.
It would surely irritate the sh*t out of me !!
You maggot
I can’t think of a great many many things that sound more difficult than tackling drunken lairy blokes in the rain, but doing the same thing to the music of, of all things, Scouting For Girls probably makes it onto the list. Maybe you could get onto the EU about your human rights being violated
.
Is that my carrier?
One of the best lyric references ever! (I have to listen to Scouting for Girls at immense volume from the bathroom every morning while a member of the family is showering, so I also know them by heart)