Working nights in the City centre was always busy until the wee early hours and drunks often provided a source of amusement.
Stoker George was one such person, although I kept wishing that the authorities would imprison him to dry him out and cure his drinking problem before he drank himself to death.
I often came across him in a sop doorway slumped; ‘Drunk and Incapable’. I don’t know what they do with them now but we used to put them in a cell warm and dry let them sleep it off and gave them breakfast next morning. Charge and release them unless there was an arrest warrant for them for failing to attend court.
Stoker never bought drink, he didn’t beg either but he would go into a different pub every night and take off his false leg to garner sympathy. His story was that he was a worker on a tugboat and lost his leg when he was crushed after slipping between the tug and a barge. Someone always bought him a pint. Then he would start a carefully rehearsed patter; “I went for a trial for Bristol Rovers.” But they told me I didn’t have a leg to stand on!” “I live by the river, drop in any time!” “Look I’m legless!” and so on and so on.
He would be thrown out at closing time and stagger to some shop doorway, fall down, take his leg off put it under his arm and go to sleep until morning or until he was reported and arrested as Incapable. He did that for years to my knowledge. We all heard his corny jokes.
I live by the river, drop in anytime!
My Dog Likes Licking Tarmac
One of the most humorous of tricks that I recall was the Gypsy pickup truck with tarmac on board. A group of gypsies would buy tarmac and drive around an area looking for badly maintained driveways. They would then knock on the door of the householder and explain that they had been working nearby but found themselves with some tarmac left over. They noticed that their driveway needed tidying up a bit and for a favourable price they could redress their drive for them making it look like new.
One of the funniest that I ever remember was a householder stopping me while I was on patrol to make a complaint about such a group of men.
I had to ask how he found out that he had been done?
He told me that his Collie dog liked licking the tarmac. I asked what he was licking, he told me that the gypsy had offered to spread a few white stone Chipping’s among the tarmac to show it off. Pleased with the idea he paid extra for the Chipping’s. These turned out to be nothing more than crushed Polo mints. When it rained, they melted and then the dog found them. It seems that Dogs like soft gooey Polo mints even if mixed with tarmac. The resourceful gypsy had long, long gone and so had the householders money. The Polo mint remained for a while but eventually they went too!
O Lordy, Lordy, What Now…
So now, free of my tutor constable I was walking the street out on patrol and coping with whatever was sent my way. My colleagues (mostly men in those days) were very helpful and there were lots of tips along the way.
My first set of nights on my own in the City, checking on buildings, moving on trouble makers, went trouble free, rattling door knobs was boring, but I was enjoying being a useful member of society.
Big Nick Ridley one of the sergeants, a man with a lot of experience came out to meet and walk with me for a while one night. We were right round the corner from the city centre police station when a car crossed crossroads junction with the traffic lights on red against him.
I stepped out into the road and stopped the car. I went to the driver and realised that he had been drinking. I pointed out his offence and cautioned him and asked him if he had been drinking?
“One or two pints officers!” He was very polite and respectable.
“Owing to the fact that you have committed a moving traffic offence and because I suspect that you have been drinking I must ask you to provide me with a sample of breath. Do you agree to supply a sample?”
Sheepishly he agreed.
Well he was compliant in every way. The test was positive we took him to the station and sat him in the charge office rather than put him in a cell.
I felt so sorry for this man, he sat there looking so dejected while we waited for the police doctor to come and take a sample of blood for analysis.
All that he muttered to himself was; “Lordy, Lordy, what now, what now!”
The other officers gave me some stick for that saying for weeks afterwards repeating it at me every time they saw me, (all part of the camaraderie).
The Doctor came, the man gave his blood sample and after the formal procedure was completed, he went on his way in a taxi.
Well his test came back over the limit, not a lot but enough to keep him off the road for a year and hopefully off the beer when he was driving from then on. As I said, I felt sorry for the man, a gentleman but one who had broken the law.
Serving Society isn’t always something easily rewarding. However the laws is there for everyone regardless of feelings.
And quite often the “law is an ass!” ‘The beagle’ Charles Dickens.