About 12 years ago,
Mrs SLVA went out on the razzle with her work mates. She got well and truly staircased and on leaving a pub near the end of the night, she stumbled and fell over, scraping her head and bruising her cheek. She picked herself up, called it a night and set off to get the bus. But she was that pissed, she couldn't work out quite where she was and it seemed she just wandered about the streets, streets she would normally be familiar with, and generally being lost. Bear in mind that relatively not many people had a mobile phone. We weren't either of them and consequently, we had no way of contacting each other.

Eventually, she saw a police van and went over and knocked the passenger window.
"Can you help me, I'm lost."
Upon seeing her bruised and grazed face, they assumed, and not surprisingly, that she'd been in an altercation. One of the officers then asked,
"Is there anything you want to tell us?"
My wife replied, "Err, yeah, I think one of my neighbours in dealing drugs." She then explained how she'd got lost walking home and so they brought her home.
Which was nice of them.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Wed 11 May 2011, 23:13, 1 reply)

Yes, but what about the neighbour?

(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Thu 12 May 2011, 11:34, closed)