own, very first heart attack, but he did walk (well, hobble) out a few days later.
So ⦠youâre saying you were attacked by a ninja?
âUmm, I donât really know how to put this, officer. Last night I was walking up the street with my Xbox 360, and then a ninja came and punched me in the face. He stole my Xbox!â
âWhy were you walking around with an Xbox on a Friday night?â
The fellow was about 15 seconds into his statement and already the officer taking the statement was desperately wishing heâd stayed in the café for another five minutes, just so he wouldnât have had to deal with this particular madman.
âWell, I was coming home from a company Christmas party. I was dressed in my gi.â
âWhatâs a gi?â
âItâs a suit. Kind of like pyjamas. You wear them in a dojo when youâre competing in judo.â
âDo you do judo?â
âNo.â
âSo â¦â
âWell, I used to do judo. I used to be pretty good, actually.â
âRight, well, please do start from the beginning. Why were you wearing a judo suit on a Friday night?â
âWell, it was a costume party. As I said, the company Christmas do, so I wore my gi.â
âRight. And the Xbox?â the officer said, rapidly approaching the end of his tether.
If you draw the short straw at the beginning of your shift, you probably end up manning the front office â this is where MOPs 24 come in person to report incidents to the police. Iâm not a huge fan of that job, for obvious reasons. The front office attracts a rather peculiar clientele â and I donât think Iâm exaggerating by saying that at least a dozen people a few pennies short of a pound come through the front office every week. Itâs not all bad; at least you are warm, and you donât have to do a lot of running.
You just have to deal with a lot of
nutters
.
I hear you thinking: âSo, apart from clearly being âa bit nutsâ, what was so special about this particular fellow who had been attacked by a ninja?â
Well, he was
me
, before I became a police officer.
Maybe I should go back to the beginning â¦
I was working for a large company at the time, and we were having our annual Christmas party. As usual, there was a theme, and this time â thanks to a large deal that had been secured about a month earlier â the theme was Asia. There was a fancy-dress element, but â as per usual â I hadnât got around to doing anything for it.
The day before the party, a couple of my mates from the office discussed dressing up as kung-fu heroes. One of them had bought a bright yellow tracksuit and intended to go as Bruce Lee. In a moment of inspiration, I formed a plan: I would dust off my old martial arts gi, and go as a judoka.
It was immediately obvious to me that this was a plan so brilliant it outshone a thousand suns: it was tenaciously Asia-related, and carried the additional bonus of me not having to actually
do
or
buy
anything â I could simply throw the gi on, and then go to the party. Score.
I made a point of shaving my head that morning, just to look extra âard, and went to the office as usual. I had a couple of comments about looking like a skinhead, but I shrugged them off; Iâd been called worse in the office. At the end of the day, I went to a quick dinner at the local sushi restaurant (we were committed to the theme) with a couple of colleagues, before changing into my judo gi in the loos and heading to the party.
Iâll spare you the details of the party itself. Suffice to say that there was an open bar, and my colleagues and I were damned if we were going to let a single drop of booze go to waste. I was 15 sheets to the wind by the time they started handing out awards. The first was for the best costume, which went to the PA to one of the executives; she was looking rather smouldering as a geisha, so no
So ⦠youâre saying you were attacked by a ninja?
âUmm, I donât really know how to put this, officer. Last night I was walking up the street with my Xbox 360, and then a ninja came and punched me in the face. He stole my Xbox!â
âWhy were you walking around with an Xbox on a Friday night?â
The fellow was about 15 seconds into his statement and already the officer taking the statement was desperately wishing heâd stayed in the café for another five minutes, just so he wouldnât have had to deal with this particular madman.
âWell, I was coming home from a company Christmas party. I was dressed in my gi.â
âWhatâs a gi?â
âItâs a suit. Kind of like pyjamas. You wear them in a dojo when youâre competing in judo.â
âDo you do judo?â
âNo.â
âSo â¦â
âWell, I used to do judo. I used to be pretty good, actually.â
âRight, well, please do start from the beginning. Why were you wearing a judo suit on a Friday night?â
âWell, it was a costume party. As I said, the company Christmas do, so I wore my gi.â
âRight. And the Xbox?â the officer said, rapidly approaching the end of his tether.
If you draw the short straw at the beginning of your shift, you probably end up manning the front office â this is where MOPs 24 come in person to report incidents to the police. Iâm not a huge fan of that job, for obvious reasons. The front office attracts a rather peculiar clientele â and I donât think Iâm exaggerating by saying that at least a dozen people a few pennies short of a pound come through the front office every week. Itâs not all bad; at least you are warm, and you donât have to do a lot of running.
You just have to deal with a lot of
nutters
.
I hear you thinking: âSo, apart from clearly being âa bit nutsâ, what was so special about this particular fellow who had been attacked by a ninja?â
Well, he was
me
, before I became a police officer.
Maybe I should go back to the beginning â¦
I was working for a large company at the time, and we were having our annual Christmas party. As usual, there was a theme, and this time â thanks to a large deal that had been secured about a month earlier â the theme was Asia. There was a fancy-dress element, but â as per usual â I hadnât got around to doing anything for it.
The day before the party, a couple of my mates from the office discussed dressing up as kung-fu heroes. One of them had bought a bright yellow tracksuit and intended to go as Bruce Lee. In a moment of inspiration, I formed a plan: I would dust off my old martial arts gi, and go as a judoka.
It was immediately obvious to me that this was a plan so brilliant it outshone a thousand suns: it was tenaciously Asia-related, and carried the additional bonus of me not having to actually
do
or
buy
anything â I could simply throw the gi on, and then go to the party. Score.
I made a point of shaving my head that morning, just to look extra âard, and went to the office as usual. I had a couple of comments about looking like a skinhead, but I shrugged them off; Iâd been called worse in the office. At the end of the day, I went to a quick dinner at the local sushi restaurant (we were committed to the theme) with a couple of colleagues, before changing into my judo gi in the loos and heading to the party.
Iâll spare you the details of the party itself. Suffice to say that there was an open bar, and my colleagues and I were damned if we were going to let a single drop of booze go to waste. I was 15 sheets to the wind by the time they started handing out awards. The first was for the best costume, which went to the PA to one of the executives; she was looking rather smouldering as a geisha, so no
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