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Disappointment, Dat Appointment On:2011-08-14 00:00:00

Not that I’m much interested in such things, being as I am totally out of touch with what’s going on in the world, nor indeed particularly interested in real life at all, but I noticed a headline the other weekend on the BBC site, from England, about some woman with excessive masses of hair, which she apparently makes amends for by having a total lack of moral compass, by the name of Rebekah Streams or Something who works or worked for that nice Mr Rapine Morlock’s News InterThingy, or the Naughty News of the Eaves, or possibly both, being arrested, arrested by what were referred to on the site as ‘hacking police’. It wasn’t the exact police species doing the arresting that arrested my attention so much as how the arresting was done that, in the words of the old song ‘really got me going’: as the site said ‘The 43-year-old was arrested by appointment on Sunday’. By appointment?? My mind just can’t handle it.
[fade in harp music] I’m... I’m...

[Ring Ring]
“’Ello. Police Station.” [fade out harp music]

“Oh, hello. I really need arresting, but I understand that you don’t take walk-ins, so I was wondering when you could fit me in. Or even if you could.”

“Well... There’s Constable Fang could fit you up a treat on Tuesday mornin’, but it’s have to be before 10:30”

“Fit me up??”

“Did I say ‘fit you up’? We don’t know nothing about that. Make up evidence? Us?? We never do that---well hardly ever----at least not always, an’ if you say we do I could do you for being cheeky to an officer, I could.
No I meant stitch you up...ach! ‘Fit you IN!---In.’

“Oh dear, I was hoping that I could have that nice p’liceman who did my colleague Andy the other day: Andy looked so good for the perp walk. Oh! Oh! And I’m afraid I really must have an afternoon appointment: I never get up till noon.”

“Ah! Well! That’ll be Sargent Squishy you’ll be wantin’. I’m afraid he’s very popular at the moment with the more discernin’ criminal. He couldn’t fit you in (or up for that matter) till next Sunday. I hope a weekend is OK with you, miss?”

“Oh Dear! Is that the earliest you can manage? I was going to visit Mother on Sunday, but I suppose I can rearrange my weekend. Sigh! Well it’ll have to do. Can you put me in the book?”

“Yes. That’ll be 4:30 on Sunday.
Now if I can just have your name and a contact number,  and if you haven’t been arrested at this station before I’ll need an address and if you happen have email, and a mobile we can hack into if we need to...” [fade in harp music]
“ Oh thank you I’m so glad you can fit me in, my hair is in such a mess...”
[fade out harp music]


That was, of course, a dramatization based on inadequate research, but even if it was a tiny bit inaccurate it still just goes to show---I mean, I mean, you try turning over your local gas station or hoisting a ham sandwich from the deli and see if you get to get arrested by appointment. No there’s only a certain type of person who get’s to be arrested by appointment, and we all know what type that is.

Of course it could have been worse, much worse: I mean they could have just arrested her over the phone; or by email; or even, horror of horrors, by spam email, though that last is, I believe, just reserved for well-endowed flashers!
And at the end of the day the people I feel sorry for are those poor hacking police offices. I do hope they get over their coughing fit soon.

Cheerio for now
from
Richard Howland-Bolton





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