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)
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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New Orleans
Several years ago I was visiting some college friends who lived outside of New Orleans. Two were brothers who had a father who was a heavy drinker.
One night the father announces that a famous jazz musician is town (in New Orleans? What are the odds?) and that he was treating all of us lads to the show.
Now the father was a nice guy while sober but a mean drunk. After downing his first dozen drinks he would try and start a fight. This night went true to form.
The sons did not drink. At least nothing like their father. Luckily they were close by and used to dealing with him and dragged him out of the bar with the bouncers behind us muttering threats. Outside the club the father became uncontrollable. One of the sons finally had to throw him on the ground, sat on this chest with his knees trapping the arms and proceeded to calmly keep slapping his father while lecturing him that he needed to calm down and go home. The rest of us young types stood around in a circle staring at the scene.
Suddenly we hear a voice call out "what is going on?". I turn and the to tallest, black police officers I have seen in my life are getting out of their squad car.
I mentally started figuring out how much money I had for bail. 4 young punks standing around watching the fifth beat up an old man generally is not considered a scene the police try and promote. Even in New Orleans.
We four approach the officers and start stammering out explanations. The one son just calmly continued to sit on his father, still slapping him, and telling him "see? Now the cops are here. They are going to take you to jail now."
The cops just stood there for what seemed an eternity. They probably had thought that they had seen everything but the son sitting there and calmly continuing slapping his father while lecturing him apparently was a first. I was just trying to keep from soiling myself. The story sounded so stupid that there was no way that they would believe us.
Finally one of the officers said "hit him once for me" and the two went back to their car and drove off.
( , Fri 23 Sep 2005, 6:28, Reply)
Several years ago I was visiting some college friends who lived outside of New Orleans. Two were brothers who had a father who was a heavy drinker.
One night the father announces that a famous jazz musician is town (in New Orleans? What are the odds?) and that he was treating all of us lads to the show.
Now the father was a nice guy while sober but a mean drunk. After downing his first dozen drinks he would try and start a fight. This night went true to form.
The sons did not drink. At least nothing like their father. Luckily they were close by and used to dealing with him and dragged him out of the bar with the bouncers behind us muttering threats. Outside the club the father became uncontrollable. One of the sons finally had to throw him on the ground, sat on this chest with his knees trapping the arms and proceeded to calmly keep slapping his father while lecturing him that he needed to calm down and go home. The rest of us young types stood around in a circle staring at the scene.
Suddenly we hear a voice call out "what is going on?". I turn and the to tallest, black police officers I have seen in my life are getting out of their squad car.
I mentally started figuring out how much money I had for bail. 4 young punks standing around watching the fifth beat up an old man generally is not considered a scene the police try and promote. Even in New Orleans.
We four approach the officers and start stammering out explanations. The one son just calmly continued to sit on his father, still slapping him, and telling him "see? Now the cops are here. They are going to take you to jail now."
The cops just stood there for what seemed an eternity. They probably had thought that they had seen everything but the son sitting there and calmly continuing slapping his father while lecturing him apparently was a first. I was just trying to keep from soiling myself. The story sounded so stupid that there was no way that they would believe us.
Finally one of the officers said "hit him once for me" and the two went back to their car and drove off.
( , Fri 23 Sep 2005, 6:28, Reply)
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