I got stopped this time last week on my way home from work, I was speeding, probably going twice as fat as the limit.
I don't know if the policechap clocked me or not but anyway, he pulled me over, was a bit sarky about me being out so late and told me I'd have to produce my documents down at the local nick. I said I'd prefer him to follow me home and I could show them to him as I really was rather tied up for the next week or so.
He refused and asked me to get out of my car and sit in his police car so we could have a chat. Presumably so he could determine whether to believe my 'I've not been drinking' statement and take my details.
Then his radio went off and he had to go to attend some accident, he had this to say to me:
I've got to fucking go, it's your fucking lucky night. Go on, fuck off.
Bookmarks