The Officer's Sandwiches Get Nicked

Wed, 08 July 2009 Courtesy of: Police Oracle

 

The law of probability states that if something embarrassing is to occur, it will occur to you whilst you are a probationary officer. Fortunately it was not always me.

I was posted with another probationer and were directed to obtain as many process tickets as possible. We headed to the local council estate - Urination Gardens - and parked next to a 'No Right Turn' road. This road was sited on top of a hill that overlooked the sprawling mass of concrete beneath us. Sitting in our panda car, with no air conditioning and in the blistering heat, conversation was light, but gave us time to bathe in our thoughts.

My thoughts became so profound, I felt the need to share them with my colleague.

"Amazing", said I, "look at that sight beneath us. A veritable prison inhabited by broken dreams and, even if they once dared to dream, now know the harsh reality of the only world that will ever be available to them. One where the level of poverty is comparable to any in the third world and where their daily sustenance can only be had through thievery and begging."

"What?" said my colleague, "Why don't you ever say anything in plain English, Leviathan? You always use posh words. Why don't you just say that they're desperate for food? "

"I do not use posh words and in any case I'm not saying their desperate for food, I'm saying they're deprived. It's quite different."

Sighing, the officer then reached into his bag and pulled out his Tupperware lunch box. He opened it and the panda car was immediately engulfed with a rancid smell. The cheese in his sandwiches had been sweating more than we, the process accelerated by the stifling weather.

"That's disgusting, really disgusting, why don't you throw them away?"

"Never", came the reply, but before we could debate the issue any further, we saw a vehicle do the 'No Right Turn'. The sandwiches were quickly thrown back in the box, and out we jumped.

After collecting the first of our tickets, we marched triumphantly back to our panda car. The control room put out a call to all units, particularly to any in the area of Urination Gardens. Excitement! Would we be directed to a gucci call? "Leviathan, we've just had a call from a passing member of the public who was sat on a bus. They said that whilst two officers were talking to a motorist, someone else opened the rear door of the police car, took something out and ran away".

Panic stricken, we hurried to our car and checked that our equipment was still in the kit bags. My colleague let out a wail. "I don't believe it. Someones nicked my lunch box. Nothing else, just my lunch box".

Driving back to the station, dreading the reaction of our colleagues, I felt the need to provide comfort to the other probationer.

"I must apologise to you" I say.

"No need. I'm the driver, I should have locked the door".

"I don't mean that, that is your fault entirely. I mean about the people on the estate. You were right, they ARE desperate for food."