• What You Measure is What You Get.

    Einstein : Not everything that can be counted counts. And not everything that counts can be counted.
  • About me.

    I know enough to know that at 04.00am it gets dark out on the streets. It has done this for the last twenty odd years, to my knowledge and will probably continue for the forseeable future. At some stage in this ‘future’ I shall retire and probably won’t give a damn if it still gets dark at 04.00am. Until then I shall be out there, somewhere, lurking in the shadows because someone, somewhere will be doing stuff they shouldn’t and then, well then I will introduce myself. In the meanwhile I shall try to remain sane and remember why I joined in the first place and try to ignore all the people who piss me off by making the job more complicated than it should be.
  • Opinions

    Any opinions contained in posts are mine and mine alone. Many of them will not be those of any Police Force, Police Organisation or Police Service around this country. The opinions are based on many years of working within the field of practical operational Police work and reflect the desire to do things with the minimum of interference by way of duplication for the benefit of others who themselves do not do the same job. I recognise that we all perform a wide range of roles and this is essential to make the system work. If you don’t like what you see remember you are only one click on the mouse away from leaving. I accept no responsibility for the comments left by others.
  • Recent Posts

  • Recent Comments

    whichendbites on Try saying……..inst…
    Diem Burden on Try saying……..inst…
    Diem Burden on Who am I ?
    Dogman on Section within a section, with…
    annettes blog on Ghost of Christmas past……
  • C.T.C. Constabulary.

    A Strategic Community Diversity Partnership. We are cutting bureaucracy and reducing the recording of target and monitoring related statistics. Our senior leaders will drive small, economical cars from our fleet surplus to save money to invest in better equipment for our frontline response officers. We are investing money to reinstate station canteens for the benefits of those 24/7 response officers. We have a pursuit policy. The message is that if you commit an offence and use a vehicle, we will follow you and stop you if necessary. It is your duty to stop when the lights and sirens are on. We take account of the findings of the Force questionnaire and are reducing the administration and management levels and returning these officers to frontline response duties. We insist on a work-life balance. We have no political masters. We are implimenting selection processes that take account of an individuals skills and proven abilities for the job. Our senior leaders will have one foot in reality and still possess the operational Policing skills they have long forgotton about and seldom used. All ranks are Police Officers first and specialists second. We will impliment career development and performance evaluation monitoring of our leaders by those officers who operate under that leadership. The most important role is that of Constable. All other roles are there to positively support the role and the responsibility of Constable and the duties performed.
  • Whichendbites

    “We trained very hard, but it seemed that every time we were beginning to form up into teams we would be reorganised. I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situation by reorganising. It can be a wonderful method of creating the illusion of progress while creating confusion, inefficiency and demoralisation.”......Petronius
  • Just so.

    Taxation is just a sophisticated way of demanding money with menaces.
  • Reality.

    Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.
  • Rank V’s Responsibility

    Don't confuse your idea of how important you are with the responsibility of your role.
  • Meetings.

    If you had to identify, in one word, why we will never achieve our full potential, Meetings would be that word.
  • There is always a bigger picture.

    When there is no answer to your problem, there is always deflection from the need to justify giving an answer.

Boulevard of broken dreams

I have just left the umpteenth call of some form of violence or anti-social behaviour. I am on the way to yet another shout at one of the clubs that occupy a relatively small area and within easy staggering pissing and vomiting distance of the Royal Grand Hotel.

This up-market establishment must look forward to the bank holiday weekends and its associated drunken assholes who suddenly gain that all important alcoholic width of sudden knowledge and inspiration.

As I speed forth to one of the clubs where the doormen have decided to refuse entry to one of a group who is already well oiled, his mates decide that he IS coming in with them and there is nothing that the doormen can do to stop them. They are not exactly Spartans, but because they outnumber the doormen they have a false sense of bravado to add to their distinct form of gobbiness.

Their odds on survival take a bit of a nose dive when about 6 rather large mates of these doormen, who have heard the commotion on their own walky talky system, arrive to ask what all the trouble is about. They have left their own doors nearby unprotected from drunken invaders. Cue the arrival of the rather brightly coloured and highly visible Police officer and the problem is offloaded. Now add to this the assistance call and everyone who is left uncommitted starts to make whilst those who have already found a suitably menial point of focus with something deemed more urgent politely state they are not available. Never in my day on district. So now you have a bright yellow sandwich. Like the mustard between the black shirted muscle and the alcohol soaked twats. No pickle but in a bit of a pickle.

Eventually the gobbiest twat, who just knew he had the rights of the land on his side instead of offering at least some form of reasoned argument decided to make all forms of simply ludicrous and pathetic threats, is arrested because he could not work out the benefit of advice from anyone. He never even had to phone a friend, he was an idiot all by himself. Me and the boy are forming that welcome circle of impenetrable teeth and before you know it, drunken twat is bound, gagged and heading for some free bed & breakfast. My mobile form of funfair had swooped against the flow of traffic and after putting my boy back into the van I headed off a short distance to the Royal Grand where 4 men were damaging the signs at the front of the hotel that told everyone the name of the hotel, the chef, the menu etc etc etc.

As I approached the Royal Grand there were indeed 4 men, not youths, but men, walking away into the car park. I approached and got out of my van to talk. As I did so one of the men turned and offered me some form of friendly advice and began to generally flail in my direction like the best Kenwood in rather a stiff dough. I was able to avoid these but did notice his three mates slowly walking in our direction with an unfortunate type of purpose. I began to struggle with the first man and keep in close to avoid the flailing bits and did manage to get hold of one part of him. As we struggled he suddenly began yelling and fell to a crumpled and writhing mass on the ground. I had only a minor death grip on one wrist and upper arm so the worst he would have sustained is perhaps a small chinese burn.

To my amazement, relief and total joy, my mate had somehow got through the tiny gap in the window and had fastened himself to the back of the man. After a short death grip around the head I was able to cuff him and my mate was between us on the floor and keeping the other three at a safe distance. None, it seems, wanted to be next on the menu.

I was able to get to my radio and call for some backup and then noticed the faces lining the Royal Grand’s windows. They must have thought this was some form of bank holiday show laid on for them. After what seemed like an age the fight bus arrived and 4 brave backup team consisting of a PC and 3 specials got out, this was shortly followed by a traffic car that had finished patrolling its latest route and had come to see what was on offer.

The hotel were concerned that there guests might be a little concerned at the goings on. They were going to take down the signs so declined to prosecute anyway.

A boulevard that contains a posh hotel and several late night refreshment houses is not a good place to be for too long on a bank holiday weekend.  

Advertisements

4 Responses

  1. Sounds like another typical Bank Holiday weekend in good old England.
    Perhaps the male your mate assisted you in detaining will now realise that the police are not a free punch bag. In years to come when his children ask him “Daddy just how did you get that scar on your back?” he has the guts to tell them the truth….. or not.
    Good effort by your mate!!!!!!!

  2. I’m sure i have heard that story before….

  3. There’s nothing better than a smart dog who knows when he’s needed.

  4. “He never even had to phone a friend, he was an idiot all by himself.” Love that.

    It has got to be a drag at times, dealing with this type of situation.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: