Woop, Woop

So last night me and Martin went into town and had a couple of pints. It wasn't an extended session, he was driving and we were both knackered. So it was out of there before eleven. Anyway, I resisted using the bathroom before we left, thinking we would be home in ten minutes anyway. Mistake.

We're standing in the Choinese takeaway near our house and the guy behind the counter is watching Silence of the Lambs on tv. I'm momentarily distracted from my discomfort as I watch my favourite scene.

"Love the suit."

It looks like Martin's Kung Pao is gonna be a while, so I'm tempted to wander off outside. "Go on," says Martin "it'll be ok, there's plenty of alleyways and shit round here." So I head outside, and walk past the first few aleyways, thinking they were too small and too close to people's houses. I get to a big one, hesitate beside it, then keep walking cause some guy's walking into his house beside it. Then I stop, look at my phone and walk back, turning into the alleyway. Basically I looked as suspicious as you could get, but I didn't care, I was busting.

So I'm walking down there, and I hear a car pull up at the entrance to the alleyway. I look over my shoulder, and I'm thinking "blue and yellow checks. Is that a police car? Nah, don't think so." So I keep walking. "If I turn down here at the end, I should be cool. Don't want those not-police getting suspicious."

The flow of my genius is interrupted by a powerful floodlight bearing down on me from the roadside. "Hm," I think. "Those not-police might not be." So I turn around, smile and wave and slowly walk towards the actually police in their actual police car.

So the police take my name, as apparently this is a bad area and they need to find out if I was trying to rape any kiddies before or after considering pissing on someone's fence. Experience with the police in the past has suggested that "being clever" is the last thing you want to do with the police. Puzzles are for wankers and for hitting wankers with. So I acted all dopey and bashful (well yeah, ok I *acted* like nothing) and gave them all my details. So I was checked out and name written down for having a bladder and sent on my way. Of course by this stage, Martin has his chicken and is sitting in his car pissing himself with the windows down so he can hear me squirm.

Yeah, so that's my news. For those interested, you should all pop along to Tom's shindig at the Nudge Bar in New Oxford Street this Friday night. Should be a laugh.