Netto brand Policeman, 16ptn BFG
I have never had any run-ins with the proper law. However, I have had the Lidls/Aldi version - a run in with a special constable.

After an enjoyable evening at the local cinema I was preparing to drive us to the local McDonalds for a post-film nosh-up. Started up the car, started to pull away when a car opposite us - a manky white Morris Ital - flashed his lights at me. It was dark, my lights weren't on but the carpark was very well-lit. I ignored the chap's flashing and proceeded towards the cinema car-park exit. The chap's light flashing became more and more urgent so I gave him a cheery one fingered salute of recognition. Big mistake.

We left the carpark, I flicked on the headlights and carried on towards McD's noticing that the manky white Ital was following us very closely and flashing his lights. I pulled into McDonald's car park and this prick of a bloke screeched to a halt beside me, leaped out of his car (and motioned for his kids and friend to do the same) then swaggered his fat arse over to my car and motioned for me to roll down my window. He gave me a right bollocking, the self-important tosser. When I questioned his authority to actually have a go at me: "You're not a real copper and you're not on duty, so you've got no right to pull me up," the smug twat pulled out his "Special Constable" ID card, flashed it at me and his entourage and boasted "I AM a proper policeman, just not a full time one. Next time watch the handsignals, sunshine, or there'll be trouble." Then he swaggered off to McD's, satisfied that he had impressed his two scruffy kids and twat of a mate with his third rate law enforcement, the smug cunt.

Actually I was stopped for speeding through town once. Late at night after 13 hours at work. I was tailed & pulled over by a police motorbike. Luckily I was wearing a business suit, so I looked pretty respectable. I also had a cold, which I cunningly exaggerated to the point of terminal influenza. The copper asked me what I was doing driving so fast so late at night, I explained I had been at work since "5am" and had spent an hour on the road driving home.
"Where do you work?" he asked.
"Bejams. In Cambridge," I replied.
"Oh. Right. Do you sell Black Forest Gateaux at Bejams?" he replied. "Only it's my wife's birthday the day after tomorrow..."
I got off with a friendly word of warning, possibly because of my expert advice on defrosting 16 portion cakes in time for forgotten spouses birthdays...
(bez_lightyear, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:58, Reply)