It's a fair cop

A small and rather hilarious post script to being burgled and having our car stolen happened last Saturday night. I was driving back from a friend's wedding down in Hastings, on my own (or at least with Princess O asleep in the passenger seat) about midnight, getting very lost in the City after coming through the Blackwall Tunnel and taking several very annoying detours. Anyway, as I finally got myself onto the right road and thought that home was nearly in sight, I heard a load of police sirens coming towards me, which I (in my innocence) thought were on their way to some major crime scene.

Alas the crime scene they were on their way to, was me! Or so it transpired when one of the cars blocked me off and a strapping policeman took the car key from the ignition and told me I was under suspicion of driving a stolen vehicle! He told me that in the City they have automatic numberplate readers, and that my number plate had "kept flashing up" on their screen (that was all my wrong turns, trying to work out where I was going!) After about 20 minutes on the pavement, surrounded by policemen, giving them my little story about how the car had been stolen, but how it was now reunited with its rightful owner (ie me), I was allowed on my way.

They were all extremely kind to me, once it became apparent that I was in fact not the hardened car criminal they were after, but what pleased me most about the whole situation was that when I read the copy of my "stop and search" warrant, the physical description the policeman had given of me was 5'6'' (a good inch taller than I really am) and "slim" build - hurrah! In his eyes practically a supermodel (and let me tell you, he wasn't too shabby in the height and looks department either!)

I did also think afterwards that it was probably a good thing for them and their stastics to be able to include a white, middle class female in the number they have apprehended, to balance out the existing, very unfortunate bias towards young, (black) men. So at least some good came of the wrongful arrest, even if it wasn't actually catching the bastards who broke into our flat!

Which leads me onto my final thought on this little saga - we got the car back nearly two months ago, and Westminster police had kept it on their register of stolen vehicles (a minor administrative error to start with). In that time though, we have driven up to Yorkshire, to the airport, out to Oxford, plus all over London, and no other policeforce has noticed our "stolen car" or thought to stop it, until that is, I entered the City of London, where money pays for a much more sophisticated police force. It's a shame that the rest of the country doesn't exist under such great policing. If it did, perhaps we'd all be a little safer and better off.

And as if I needed an excuse for a glimpse of George Michael in a pleasingly tight policeman's get-up, here's "Outside", to remind us all that a man in uniform is always sexy.