My post header tells the truth. I was stop-searched by the police at 6.30 this morning just up the road from my house in Earls Barton. Had to give this copper my name and address and telephone number, then submit to a frisk. He felt a bump of something or other in my pocket and made me turn it out. You should have seen his face when I pulled out a cheap mobile phone and a book of Beat poetry.
And all this happened out in the street, with nobody around but me, the copper and a few early morning blackbirds hopping around in the frosty grass. Great way to start your birthday. Seems somebody robbed a warehouse on the industrial estate in the village last night and I fitted the description.
But I don't think I fitted the profile. Would you really go on the rob in a village and then catch a bus home?
When I told my friends about the experience afterwards, they all said, to a man (or woman), "Well, you do look a bit dodgy, Bruce." They're right, I do. And on some level of my personality that remains completely bourgeois, that pleases me much more than it should.
4 comments:
Oh I dunno, beatniks look pretty sus to me.
In fact, I'd rather be confronted with Iraqi insurgents than a row of beatniks!
Happy Birthday again Bruce, awesome start for the day for you!
hey, happy birthday
could be beat poetry might be against somebody's anti-porn law, eh
hell, look what they did years ago to D.A. Levy
Haha -- I can see that happening, Bruce. Happy birthday.
-- Glenn
Holly, you are right, of course. Beatniks can do much more damage because by smoking marijuana they are encouraging infiltration of the British underworld by Chinese triads, at least according to the mainstream news the other day.
Thanks for the wishes, fellers.
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