Yesterday evening I journeyed into darkest Somerset to give a prospective client a quotation for a fitted bedroom. I juiced up at Tesco's and zoomed off towards rural Badgeworth. While I was drawing up my designs with my customer, my mobile phone burst into life, playing "The Sting" theme, which meant that this was an uknown caller to me. This is how the conversation went:
Mr. Hooper?
Yes!
Weston super Mare Police station 'ere.
Gulp!
Tell me sir, 'ave you recently visited the Tesco garage in Weston?
Yes, as a matter of fact I called in there tonight to fill up with petrol and then I........Oh holy shit!
Carry on please sir..
Oh Christ Almighty! I filled up with juice and drove off without paying! Oh bugger oh sod it oh bloody Norah..
Ahem, er quite so sir, any chance you could pop in there this evening at your convenience and pay the £25 for the petrol that you took sir?
Yes yes yes, anything burble burble..
Seriously folks, isn't that nice when the police phone you to check as to whether you had committed a crime before they arrest you?
I promise never again will I wind up our local coppers as to whether or not they really keep their sandwiches inside their helmets.
Englishman.
Bring on the dancing girls!