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This is a question The Police

Sitting in my local pub late one night enjoying the landlord's flexible idea of what constitutes his licencing hours, a bunch of drunk blokes in raincoats burst in. Requesting to be served, one shouted at the barman "It's alright - we're not coppers!"

They were spitting images of Lt. Columbo to a man. The barman laughed them out of the pub.

(, Thu 22 Sep 2005, 10:12)
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This question is now closed.

I_have_run_out_of_coke and I have run out of coke are different.


The latter is more entertaining imho.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:54, Reply)
My apologies
All my problems started after I was sexually abused by a copper when I was younger.

I enjoyed the experience so much that I wanted to find him and make him love me properly. That's why i joined.

I hang my head in shame after re-reading my comments. If I have upset anyone on this board or if I have ruined the good name of the force I am truly sorry.

I know I'm a shit. That's why I became a policeman.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:41, Reply)
Filth, Pigs, etc.
I'm a nice middle class boy, but when describing the police I always call them Filth or Pigs.

It gives me so much credibility. No, really.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:38, Reply)
Some nice, some not so nice. . .
When I were a lad, I'd gone over to Germany to see the Mission and the Wonderstuff and when I got back to London, exhausted still pissed, I fell asleep in Victoria station waiting for a bus home to Scotland. Got rudely awoken by 2 coppers who asked me what I was doing, told them I was waiting for a bus and the bastards decided to empty my kitbag out on the ground and go through every single thing. Seemed really pissed off when all they found was grubby clothes and nothing illicit at all.
On the other hand a few years later, myself and a friend were again in Victoria Station when I couple of coppers came up and asked for ID (we were scruffy bastards) and went off and did a check on us. Came back gave us our ID back and wished my mate a happy birthday, having got our D.O.B.'s in their check.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:28, Reply)
I can smell bullshit...
Ive read a couple of I_have_run_out_of_coke posts. I worked for the cops for a few years developing training for them, and i'd give you 100 to 1 odds he's not a copper from the way he writes
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:15, Reply)
Little bit of cheek
Let's have another one then, shall we?

This is around 12 years ago or so, and one of my friends is at university in Coleraine, Northern Ireland. I pop over to visit him and hire a car, and we run around all over the place to see the sights.

Hire cars over there are pretty obvious, and in this one we have me (as English as you please), my friend (British-American passport, German surname), and his girlfriend (Catholic lass, long red hair, very obviously Irish). We are stopped at a junction where a police officer gestures for me to wind the window down, which I then do.

Cue the usual comments - "Hello officer, got nothing better to do?", all that stuff. He's not doing the usual jokey thing here, and is all matter-of-fact and direct. I try a few more lines but he's not giving me an inch. I realise the mood in the car has changed, and glance over to the other two. They're staring across the T junction to the wall opposite. I look, and see three other officers (or soldiers?) in full kevlar with SA-80s pointed at the car.

Instantly I am a lot more cooperative, the lip goes, and I'm telling him my life story, my shoe size, whatever he wanted. We manage to sort it all out, and trundle off. Afterwards I asked my mate and his gf if this was because of a security threat. "No, just a typical Saturday afternoon in Omagh".

(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 17:05, Reply)
Peace March
When I was in Oxford, me and a mate were getting merrily pissed in the afternoon on Cowley road. We looked out of the window, and, lo and behold, saw a passing peace march.

It occurred to us that there was no dissenting voice, no opposition, so, exercising our right to free speech, ran out of the pub screaming, "We love war!" and, "Kill them all!".

Bearing in mind that there were only two of us, it seemed a little extreme to be charged down by two mounted policemen...

Cautioned for drunk and disorderly, when we should have been praised for joining the debate.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 16:32, Reply)
My wife's ex-husband...
...is a copper, and he's a scumbag. When he left, she asked him if he cared about his two young daughters - he said "Not enough to stay, no".

He also then moved 200 miles away, complains that he hasn't get enough money for petrol to come and get them, and only sees them a couple of times a year. I could go on, but I'm depressing myself.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 16:12, Reply)
Copper Caper
While I was living in Slough I was seeing this female who we will call P. P was a Special (volunteer police) in the local cop shop. Anyway, we bought a flat together and all was going well until I found out that P was seeing another copper from the local station. We split up and I took over the flat and mortgage etc... but let her stay there until she got herself sorted, this ended up taking a few months, and as it was a one bedroom flat I was sleeping on the couch in the living room.

After a couple of weeks I found out that she had also started seeing another cop from the same station.

One night she was at home in the bedroom and one of her boyfriend cops came to visit (while on duty). I let him in when he knock and told him where she was. 10 minutes later the other (original) cop boyfriend let himself in with his own key (this was news to me that he had one). I was gonna shout at him, but decided to let him creep quietly to the bedroom where he found the other 2 mid-getting it on. Cue 2 cops on duty, fighting in my sitting room. I keep thinking back and wishing I thought to call the cops and report a disturbance.

She moved out soon after that thankfully.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 15:45, Reply)
ooh, i remember one
Aside from the traffic cone incident posted a page or so back by does this taste like rohypnol, i've had one other run-in with the police:

Walking to the pub at about 6pm on my own, i decided to roll myself a fag. As i'm a poor student ii've gotten quite good at rolling fags. however, in the fairly windy conditions i'd produced something that looked like i'd rolled it entirely with my face. It was awful, hanging apart, a lovely cone shape, etc.

I decided to smoke it anyway, about 2 minutes later, some cop on a bike rode past me and stopped. I thought nothing of it, as i knew i'd done nothing wrong. As i approached, the following exchange took place:

him: "What's that you're smoking?"

me: "it's a very poorly rolled cigarette"

him: "yeah, right"

*proceeds to take fag out of my hand, take a massive drag on it, breathe out and hand it back*

him: "all right then, you can go"

This left me standing there not quite sure of what i'd just seen.

I muttered "cheeky cunt" and walked off.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 15:26, Reply)
Wouldn't you rather at least have condidly honest bent coppers than the conventional types from the 70s?

Pinch of salt an all that. Calm down dear, he's only a constable. Etc.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 15:10, Reply)
a couple for you:
Our last temp here at work was with us while waiting for her start date with the Surrey police. She had a law degree from some uni in London and to support herself whilst a poverty stricken student she worked as a lapdancer/poledancer in Stringfellows! Which myself and my other two male colleagues were very happy to hear about. She said that sometimes she would leave at the end of the night with over a grand in cash on her. Extremely fit young thing she was too if I may allow myself to be a shallow twat, which i do. Saw her a while back in the full police gear which was kinda erotic and scary all at the same time.

Second story was when a friend and I drove to a shithole housing estate (totlands farnborough, if you know it) where they had a drive-through drugs service. Pull up and about 5 blokes came to the car, you placed your order and tootled off. Only used as a last resort as the pot was mostly cut with god knows what, but we were desperate, so off we went.

On arrival it's very quiet, normally about 5pm there were about 10 dealers hanging around with big fucking dogs on chains, drinking, nicking cars etc, but this time nothing apart from two blokes strolling along. My mate, the driver, calls out to them and they come up to the car. Friend asks them if they have any pot to sell at which point one of them reaches into his pocket and flashes his CID badge at us. Fantastic..

Turns out they had the area under surveillance for months and busted numerous dealers of varying importance on the estate. We got taken to the nick and spent hours in the cells (during which time we invented "push the chip", where we tried to fire a chip as far as possible through the tiny gap between our two cell windows, helped pass the time...) Also got interviewed by the regulation older cooler copper and the young trying to impress twatty one. The fucked up dealers had even got to the point where they were trying to sell various drugs to the Probation officers who had an office on the estate. They were right scum it must be said.

Right fucking hassle, got off with a warning, girlfriend went loopy at me and ended up at home, after the pubs had closed, unshagged and very very straight. arse.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 15:03, Reply)
Mate of mine...
has had a bit of a bad run with the boys in blue.

he got done for drink-driving and possession of pills, and has to report in to the local cop shop once a week.

since then, subsequent brushes have been when his girlfriend's neighbours called the police when she fell asleep on the sofa and he was locked out, and most recently (which was one of the last straws before she dumped him) phoned her up at 1am to get her to rescue him from the police station after he was taken there by the taxi he couldn't afford to pay for.

on his way out of the door, he goes back to the copper at the booking-in desk and asks him "can you honestly tell me that you've never got really drunk and done anything wrong?"

it's not looking good for his next court appearance.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 14:17, Reply)
Perks of being a copper.
Free drugs. Well occasionally. Best is when you pull some kid on a driving offense and find it as part of a search. Can normally swipe a some or all of it. Have made a few quid passing it on to some of the politer dealers.

Free feels. Town centre, nicking drunk girls, get to feel them up a bit and they don’t remember. All deniable anyway especially if they're drunk - in my book, anything goes if you can get away with it.

Free food/drink. Seriously get bollocked for this but we can get loads of free coffee and things if you know where to go. We keep an extra eye out for those places, no harm in it.

Get to practise your own racial/social profiling. Bit controv this, officially not allowed to do it (of course) but we all do. I mean lets get real about this, you can normally tell what they’ve been up to. I don’t mind them myself but some of the lads will have a right go at the asian ones. Personally it’s the muzzies that give me the grief. And don’t give me any crap on that, I see it every day.

Free sex. Happens weekly, if not more often. Pull over enough fit birds and it will happen, once/twice out of ten - "is there an on the spot fine I can pay now officer" usually works. Its not an offer of a bribe and with a raised eyebrow and the right sort of glance and theres always a deal to be had. Had some cracking blowjobs over the years. Tend not to shag them cos I don’t want to catch anything.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 14:09, Reply)
CS Gas
Many years ago, when inspoken was, well...slightly more outspoken, I used to while away the hours experimenting with just about any substance available (not including the real nasty stuff, Zammo did have some effect on me during my formative years). Fortunately for me, this was assisted by my best mates brother, who was a fine upstanding supplier of happiness in plant, pill or powdered form.

As is usually the unfortunate case, it wasnt long before other local purveyors, and more importantly the boys in blue became aware of the budding entrepreneur and his oh so happy customers, which at one point must have been over 100. Oh, and his not-so-happy competitors, who duly grassed him up to the old bill. They also came round with an axe and a knife, but that's another story for another qotw.

Anyhoo, cut to one weekday morning and the postie knocking on the front door rather heavily... at 1pm. Smelling a rodent, and being oh so incredibly paranoid anyway, me, my mate and his brother sit deadly still and quietly hope he'll go away while taking turns to return to the spy hole to check for him. After about 15 mins of repeated knocking he leaves. Calm returns and we begin to skin up again, hoping to dispel the adrenaline rush with a hefty dose of THC. But not for long.

Within 15 minutes of said postie leaving the front door - SMASH! The window goes through. Cue 3 bodies hoovering up as much evidence as possible into their mouths and swallowing while the house rottweiller freaks out and snarls at the potential intruder stood outside the broken window. Next thing you know the a loud hissing and the room begins to fill with white mist. Oh my god, freaks I, "***** open the fucking door for gods sake man, we're gonna die!!!" Through the haze, amidst a coughing fit and trying to shield my eyes and mouth with my shirt, mates brother opens door and the rest of plod swoop in, seperate us and begin questioning us.

The PC interviewing me seemed mildy amused at my state of shock and distress, seemingly unfazed by his attempts to CS me, my mate, his bro and the dog. Sensing i wasnt going to get into too much trouble (they found nothing on me and bro took the rap for anything in the house) i finally asked him why the cs hadnt affected me too much...
between loud guffaws he replied "that's the stations* powder fire extinguisher son, you dont think we'd waste anything good on you lot do you?!"

*Turns out the police station was 2 minutes walk away - oops!
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 13:55, Reply)
lack of police
ok bit of a stretch as it wouldn't have happened if there had been more police around [do you see what i did there?] but such a funny story that it has to be shared:

mate's boyfriend, a scrawny irish drunk with a severe weed habit, wanders down to coldharbour lane in brixton to try and score. he was soon approached by four enormous black guys who met his request to buy drugs with a demand for his wallet couched in no uncertain terms.

"you'll have to fight me for it," declared little aidan, who weighs maybe eleven stone soaking wet, putting up his fists. needless to say, they did, and it didn't take them long.

"wait..." slurred aidan, slithering to his feet and attempting to chase them as they walked off with his wallet, mobile, watch etc. "can i have me bus fare?"

and they actually threw him a pound! this was only topped by my friend sarah, who, when hearing the story, said: "aaah, so they were nice muggers then." WTF???
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 13:34, Reply)
Bloody rozzers
Many many many years ago when I had thick hair and a thin waist ( now sadly reversed) My friends and I on a quest for beer travelled from our homes in grotty Luton to the beautiful market town of St Albans on the train.
Being seventeen , getting out of our minds on alcohol took approximately 30 seconds and we "enjoyed" our evening of wine ( well beer anyway) Women ( we looked at a few) and song (Heavy metal was deriguer at the time).
Making our very drunken way home towards the railway station my mate decided like many before him to nick a traffic cone from the side of the road which he "wore" as a groovy wizards hat.
That was until 2 neadenthal rozzers chased after him, grabbed him and at full pelt slammed him against the station wall at about 100 miles an hour - smashing his head into one of those concertina type metal curtains the stations have. They then frog marched him back to the approximate area and made him put it back.It was my first ever brush with the law and have since found them to be even bigger twunts than I originally thought.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 13:08, Reply)
I have a mate who's
a detective the Regional Crime Squad.
He once said that "You've never done surveillance until you've trailed a woman in a burqa through Walthamstow market!"
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 13:08, Reply)
samantha blow-job
being a law-abiding lawyer [well, some of the time] i haven't clashed with the police myself. but my friend, whom we'll call sam since it is her name, has nearly dropped me in it twice...

the first time i was driving a carload home from the pub [the george in stockport if anyone knows that particular shitpit]. as i turned right onto the a6, which is a big wide corner, sam, who was spectacularly pissed, decided to lower the window and hang out of it to wave at our mates in the car behind. two seconds later and i've been pulled over to the side of the road. to be informed by the police that i would be getting a fine and 3 points for failing to control my passenger. my howl of rage alerted sam, who staggered drunkenly over and stabbed a finger into the chest of the policemen.

"you leave her the fuck alone," she slurred. like wolves scenting fresh prey, they told me to get back in the car and to forget it. i was quite literally frozen to the spot as they told sam to get into the van. she let rip with a string of obscenities, which she yelled at the top of her voice. eventually they posted her into the van and drove away with her.

apparently she lit a fag in the van and was told sharply to put it out. so she blew smoke at them and told them to fuck off, meaning that they then handcuffed her. she shouted all the way to the station, and shouted whilst they put her in a cell. eventually an older, nice policeman approached her.

"what's your name darling?" he asked kindly. sensing a potential ally, sam stopped shouting and smiled at him.

"samantha," she said sweetly. and then, less sweetly, "samantha blow-job and i live at 44 fuck-you avenue." then she burst out laughing. the kind old policeman's eyes glazed over with steel and he slammed the door on her.

at 6am he came back. sam had woken up, cold, sober, alone and very ill. oh and very very scared and unhappy. the nice policeman opened the door.

"it's not funny now, is it?" he asked.

sam shook her head. "no," she said feebly.

"do you want to go home?" he said kindly.

"yes," she whispered. and he burst out laughing.

"but you want to go home? now THAT'S funny." and he walked off, still laughing.

they left her there for a few more hours before charging her with breach of the peace and throwing her out. she got a fine.

did she learn? did she fuck. about 6 months later i was pulled over by the police and was baffled because i had not been speeding at all. turns out sam had thrown a sandwich box out of the window and had hit a copper in the face with it... only a low cut top saved us from further incidents!
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 13:00, Reply)
Not me, but the bro-in-law
Was trying to cross the road in his lovely native Sarf London. Got to a zebra crossing and, thinking 'Well, cars have to stop for me when I'm on one of these', strode out into the middle of the road.
Unfortunately, the speeding copcar hadn't realised his intention, and was forced to screech to a halt, and the WPC sat in the passenger seat flew forward and hit her head on the windscreen.
My brother in law, who is no friend of the folk in blue, calmly sauntered to the passenger side and tapped on the window. The visibly dazed WPC wound it down. 'Should've had yer seatbelt on, luv,' says bro-in-law and walks off. Priceless.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 12:56, Reply)
Was I short changed?
I was hit on the head by a big coppers truncheon in Brixton in 1980,it fucking hurt...but why did he not continue to beat me senseless. I feel cheated!
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 12:41, Reply)
Stupid questions are us.
I live in a tiny little street, about 2 inches less than 3 cars wide. Six houses each side and almost everybody has a car. So at night both sides are full.
When next-door got broken into, the coppers came and being the helpful (nosey) neighbour I went out to see if I could be of assistance.
One of the coppers looks up and down the street, turns to me and says 'Who's parked all these cars like this?'.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 12:25, Reply)
do you remember Channel 4's "young person's guide to being a rockstar" (or something) from the late nineties?

Evidently, as you've nicked your story from it. Lazy twat.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 11:51, Reply)
they done a good thing!
My darling parents, from whose loins I was the eventual issue, would never have got together had it not been for the fine Cambridgeshire Constabulary...

They went on a date, back to his for coffee (seriously, just coffee, no nookie), where the pigs were waiting to arrest him for some (non-existent) motoring offence. My mum, who'd thought he was a bit of a tosser, went to the station with him, and in the hours spent waiting around for the police to sort the mess out (my dad had a beard and had been confused with another hippie driving a mini round cambridgeshire...) decided that he wasn't as bad as she'd first thought.

35 years later they're still married!
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 11:09, Reply)
Re. Does this taste like rohypnol to you:
dude, that's MY story! you thief! I still have that cone actually.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 9:36, Reply)
Your words have been elevated within my mind to that of 'funniest comments i have ever read'.
You are the world and all that is in it...and whatsmore....

You'll be a man o'war....

a Portuguese one.
(, Mon 26 Sep 2005, 8:51, Reply)

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