F*ck knows how I'd forgotten this one till now...
Many years ago (wavy lines), I used to run a National Trust estate that had about four acres of grounds.
At the time I had quite long hair that I generally kept in a ponytail (no, this isn't a story about being mistaken for a girl).
Anyway, one day I was working in the garden on a rather hot day. I'd been doing some strimming with an industrial strimmer (the kind you need to keep covered up to use), so after I'd finished I stripped down to my shorts and was having a quiet fag.
All of a sudden I was rugby tackled to the ground from behind and (what felt like) about eight coppers jumped on me. After a few seconds of struggling one of them shouted, "Hang on, he's over there!" and ran off. A few seconds later all of them had followed apart from one who stayed behind to apologise. They'd been chasing a car thief who was my height, had a ponytail and was dressed in identical shorts. They'd seen him run into the grounds and when they followed spotted me.
Anyway, I wasn't hurt or anything and they caught the guy before he got out of my garden (it had massive walls and the chavy twat couldn't climb).
At least I got to watch them roughly manhandle him into the awaiting police van (and he really did look like me).
(EvilMeister, Mon 4 Jun 2007, 15:51, Reply)