Wednesday 4 October 2017

Did I tell you about when... I got picked up by the fuzz

So there I was, scurrying along late and lost, as usual. It was a balmy moonlit night and I was going to pick up a friend's kid from night classes. I had circled the neighbourhood and finally found a space miles away from the music academy. Looking at my watch, it was 10.30 and getting close to the time when the kid would be looking for me and making panicked calls to his parents.

I was in full scamper when I heard the farty toot of a police horn, I looked round in curiosity. It was Papaki squad, two bikes loaded with four officers locked and loaded. Who were they after? I doubted they were going to ask for directions but maybe I might have seen some suspicious type running away from a crime scene. One of the pillions was standing and they tooted again. I stopped in a who-me? stance. The standing officer alighted and approached, was this really happening?
Twitshot
He told me they just wanted to do a little check; blood pressure? customer satisfaction? 

He asked me if I live in the area, I told him I didn't. I told him to make it quick as I was going to pick up a kid from classes. He told me it would take 2 minutes, so I played ball. Word to the wise, Greeks baring gifts can and usually is very pleasant, Greeks talking minutes is tears en route.

I was asked if I was carrying anything illegal, I said I really hoped not as this wouldn't be the best time. He deadpanned the same question again until I told him that I was not carrying.

He asked me to turn out my pockets and normally I would have told him to turn out his first but instead I turned out my pockets and everything was carefully scrutinised. It was about this point when I realised what was really happening. No just cause, no suspicious behaviour, just a 40-something late and lost.

I raised my arms and accepted a full body frisk. One minute I'm doing my bit for community relations, next I have my nuts in a copper's palm. Thankfully he had gentle hands.

Once they had satisfied themselves that I was no immediate threat to society they asked me if I was from round here, I told them again where I lived, not my address, just the area. He looked at me and asked the question again. I knew the question he wanted to ask, my accent had set off alarm bells. He persisted with variations of the are-you-local question without directly mentioning ethnicity. I told him that I'm British and he corrected me saying Greek-British, I told him English-British, BBC-British, Marks and Spencer British... British! Then the short one next to him started demanding papers. Now, I rarely carry ID as such, credit cards maybe but if you've ever lost your passport or driving licence you’ll understand that the risk of a night in the cell is worth all the hassle and cost of getting it replaced.

I told shorty that I took them on holiday abroad and I didn't realise that I would need to prove my identity crossing the municipal line. Shorty tells me that I am abroad and had to prove my legal status in the country. Yes, this really is happening. I told him that I'm a Greek tax-payer and European citizen. He asks me again if I had any ID, I tell him again that I was under the assumption that I was free to move around as I would be in Britain, yes I know this was taunting but by this time I had had enough of their bullshit. He told me that they would have to take me down the station if I wanted to continue (read: keep it up, sonny!) 

I offered my hands ready for cuffing. "If you are going to, get it over with..." 

They had two bikes and two pillions, how they would get me there was anyone’s guess.

Finally, shorty told me that due to having to pick up the kid they would let me off… Let me off for doing nothing, stopped with no just cause and after discovering no illegals on me; how fucking gracious!

I told them how grateful I was for their kindness and wished them a good evening, whatever that may entail.

As I shuffled off, I slowed my pace to a gentle mince in order to furtively readjust the two kilo bag of coke and various fire arms I had previously shoved up my arse... Nah, not really!


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1 comment:

  1. Sounds like they may have been down on their quota that evening.

    ReplyDelete


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