I quite like police (now I've stopped the funny fags)
I used to live in a flat above another flat occupied by this highly strung lady and highly strung teenage son (years of her whinging and moaning must have made him like that as he was a nice lad under it all). One Sunday afternoon they had an almight row about something.

A bit later I saw from my sitting room window a police car speeding up the street with its lights on, which was unusual in that part of leafy west london. "Shit" I said to my wife "It's the rozzers and they're stopping next to our house". Out jumped two burly policemen and rang our bell.

I went down to see what was up. The one asked if I had called 999. I said no. He said there'd been a 999 call from our address and asked who I lived with. I said my wife and baby son and told him they didn't call either. They insisted on seeing them before they would leave. Despite the obvious implication that I might be a lying, wife-beater/child-murderer, it was really reassuring.

They then went down to the flat downstairs and dished out a massive bollocking to whichever of the mother/son called them.
(Xyza, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:13, Reply)