The World, The Police, The Normal and The Surreal…

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A Metropolitan Police Service photographer fil...

For the last few weeks, I’ve been watching this series on policing in England; and needless to say, I’ve been shocked at some of the acts I’ve seen…varying from immense kindness to immense brutality

It seems we (British people) tolerate our policemen smashing the shit out of certain innocent people with metal bats; so long as they are ultra polite when they issue our speeding tickets; which they ALWAYS are!

Then I got to thinking about how much we take for granted as normal…ONLY because we’re used to it.

Thanks to Easy Jet and the birth of tiny toiletries, I was able to go on several cheapy cheap foreign adventures in the last few years. And I ran into the police on 2 of the 3 trips…

First, I went to Krakow in Poland and the gargantuan river Wisla was minutes away from bursting its banks when I arrived. There were sandbags, people and police everywhere; and camcorders! It seems it’s a bit of an entertaining event for the people of Krakow; watching the river swell til it’s too late to run away.

I for one, was getting out of there…

WELL; I dared to attempt to cross a very busy, ‘scarily wide’ road, and apparently; I was not meant to be there

The first I knew of this crime I’d committed, was when the police man I was standing ahead of, accelerated like the Stig (from Top Gear)…and launched his car at me full pelt… until the bumper was an inch from my knees. He then slammed the car to a halt, screeching brakes included; wound down his window; (as did the other Loony copper in the passenger seat) and they hung their heads out as far as possible and began screaming abuse at me (In polish, clearly)

My first scathing thought was; how bloody RUDE! Who do they think they are? (That’d be the British in me)

As a person generally; I don’t react well to people screaming at me. The red mist hit, and all of a sudden I realised I was screaming back at them (In English, clearly) HOW UNHELPFUL of us all (re the language barrier)!

…and then I saw the blind, pure, unadulterated burning fury in the two sets of eyes; just above the two fast-moving mouths. Mouths spouting more boiling scary shit than I’ve ever heard…

and I realised I was not being normal for them at all.

Somehow, I also grasped the importance of shutting my trap, pronto!

THEN, (like a twat) I exited the scene by going back across the road, the wrong way… AGAIN!

Well; I thought I was gonna die for sure, this caused an even larger ball of fury to pour from both of them, not to mention another acceleration towards my quivering knees, on the road to hell… and I ran for my dear sweet little life

Far far away from the crazy boys in blue

Then 2 days later, I lost my fooooooking passport, and with tears rolling down my cheeks, no cash, no phone and no idea what to do, I found a police man and got my little polish to English dictionary out; and I tried really hard to say PLEASE BRITISH CONSULATE EMBASSY PLEASE… in between the retching, ‘broken woman styleeee’ sobs

The normal radar in me was expecting him to respectfully take me to the corner of the street with the embassy on it, say ‘There it is madam, just up there on the right’; and then possibly end the interaction by clubbing me with a metal bat, just out of view of any other humans. Silly me!

I’m not positive, but I think he said in Polish ‘Ha Haaaaa, fucking jog on you wench’ (I realised this was the polish equivalent of our metal bat treatment)

I have never wanted to see a scary man from The London Metropolitan Police, sooooooo much as I did , just after this rejection ;(

Anyway, I found the embassy and all ended well there…

THEN; Months pass and I’m in a tiny tiny tiny pizza parlour in Pisa, and 2 Italian Policemen came through the door. They stood at the counter and I was sat behind them, waiting for my Hawaiian to finish cooking. Due to the limited teeny tiny space we were in, this meant that all of a sudden my nose was 1 INCH away from a GUN!

British Columbia Provincial Police officer wit...

Apart from a distant shot of a sawn off shot-gun; I have never seen a gun, let alone had one next to my nose

It was HUGE, FAT, soooo shockingly CHUNKY and IN MY general FACE REGION!

It felt so far away from normal

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder for me, they opened their mouths to speak and ejected the two warmest requests for a pizza, I’ve ever heard, from anyone, like anywhere. They said Bella at least 9 times, and smiled their sweet little faces off… 5 minutes later they waved to everyone in the shop, and marched their tubby ‘gunned up’ asses down the road, munching on a pepperoni with extra mushrooms each.

It is soooo fascinating realising that normal is anything but; just about everywhere you go! What’s normal is what we see all the time, except none of this was or is normal, it’s all a bit bloody surreal if you think about it!

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