I have the misfortune of being one of her majestys servants. A job that all in all has lots of laughs and giggles but also sometimes a bit serious. I could tell so many tales of the stupid, ignorant, moronic, and just plain sad. But I'd be at it all day.

Instead I shall recall the tale of my very first foot chase (very exciting you would think).

Being the eager little twunt I was when I was new on the streets, dreaming of catching bad guys and sending them to prison meant that I enjoyed the lovely task known as 'foot patrol' (anyone who knows the cops would know that only the stinky new kid does foot patrol, the rest tootle about in jam sandwiches terrorising car owners by following them for miles on end seeing how they react).

I took to my beat which took me through the rather large park having childrens playground, football pitches and a couple of large fields with a wooded area at the end leading to a river that then leads to the local rat run council estate. It had rained the night before but was warm on this fateful day so the ground was a little moist still but not slippy.

As I turned into the park I saw a young hoodlum holding onto a much smaller yoof who was clearly upset. Being the excellent investigator I am I deduced that he was of course being robbed! Great I thought as I started to approach shouting "Oi! You!" (looking back if I'd have kept my mouth shut hoodlum wouldn't have noticed me til the last minute but hindsight is wonderful). As such I alerted the rapscallion that the dibble were onto him and he ran like the wind.

I set off at high speed (not easy when walking around with bodyarm, heavy boots, a dopey hat and a fully equipped bat belt (which I had added to being the eager twerp). I chased the bugger through the park, straight over the childrens playground to the amusement of the other kiddiewinks. I knew where he was running to, the wooded area where he would have full escape priveliges. I shouted it through on my posh walkie talkie asking for CCTV on the park to start monitoring him. As I chased through the football match that was being played on the field (not one bothered to help me but instead cheered the thief on) we started to approach the final stretch. I knew I had to grab him before he got to the trees. Thankfully being as fit as I was I was gaining ground, in fact I was a mere arms length away. And then. My bat belt, weighed down with all my stupid extras, went from my hips to right around my legs. I then proceeded to fall forward into the air, arms still outstretched from my grabbing attempts like a black and white superman...but what goes up, most come down, face first into the mud where I skidded along for the best part of 5 metres.

By the time I had regained my composure, the escape artist had succeeded, but not before standing at the edge of the trees laughing and flipping me the bird before disappearing into the wilderness. I started my trudge back through all of the park, humiliated and covered in mud. Losing a prisoner is a cakes offence at my station and I had a big team. I was only a poor proby. I couldn't afford cakes. As I got out of the park I was picked up by one of my colleagues who instead of taking me back to the police station, took me to the CCTV control room where my other colleagues had gathered and huddled round the monitor. Had they found him? No of course not, what they were doing is watching me fall over, pause, rewind, play. All in hysterics. Apparently as soon as I had shouted for CCTV a couple of officers had attended there straight away and got the operator to start filming. Whilst I slowly walked back to the park entrance they had then radio'd everyone else telling them to come and have a look.

Needless to say the robber was never caught, and I could not walk anywhere in the station without some reference to superman or mud baths being made about me. Thankfully I have learnt since then and my belt now contains the bare minimum, also I don't foot patrol anymore.

Apologies for length.
(MDZer0, Thu 12 May 2011, 9:34, 2 replies)

Is it on youtube yet?
I wanna see!
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 12 May 2011, 10:23, closed)

I've read two stories that come from "policemen"
Neither of them has been very literate.

Most policemen I know can string a sentence together.

If these guys are coppers, then I'm not surprised so many people get acquitted in court.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Thu 12 May 2011, 12:49, closed)