Sunday, 24 February 2013

Good Times

The chap on the right is my sergeant. The chap in the middle is Lloydy. I am to the left of the picture. The scene is the bar at Snow Hill police station after duty. It was not unknown for some of us to drink all night long and resume work the next day without having slept. Sadly - some 25 years later - one or two of our number (not pictured) couldn't shake it off and are still at it.

In many ways the railway has saved me and not least because of its strict drugs and alcohol policy.

Where did the time go ???

I wish I could go back and tell the daft bugger what I know now !

(Thanks to Mick J for sending it)


Bill Quango MP said...

Don't tell him what you know now!

Tell him the Lottery numbers for the very first draw in 1994 and net him £4 million quid just in time for the big London property boom.

Scrobs... said...

That's a deep post, Elecs.

In our business, we rely on much of our contact in a bar known as 'Jurassic Park', which is downstairs and used to seeing some regulars there for at least a week non-stop...

At least you see some scenery, and some people, and some happy occasions, so you're a lucky man!

Blue Eyes said...

"It was not unknown for some of us to drink all night long and resume work the next day without having slept."

Which is why the Met got rid of theirs, probably!

Electro-Kevin said...

BQ - The benefit of hindsight.

Scrobs - I am lucky. Leaving the police was the right decision for me.

Blue - A few of the bar managers turned alchy themselves having been encouraged to stay open into the wee hours every night. Then on to the medical bar and then the early opening market pubs.

beast said...

Its called age old chap
Beast could stay up to the early hours getting absolutely leathered then go on a long run in the early morning Like 5.30 AM)
No longer
A leisurely wank or fuck is my limit these days

Anonymous said...

I remember with great fondness, the days when every body part functioned perfectly and without protest, right around the clock - should that extra performance be required at weekends.


beast said...

Do you examine parts of your body and wonder if its cancer?
I fucking do !
Our host seems to have lost enough hair to stuff a Nazis sofa
The only thing about decrepitude that appeals to me is the free travel pass and Saga insurance

Electro-Kevin said...

I'm looking forward to being able to shit myself in public without being arrested for it.

DtP said...

Has someone just popped a truncheon up Sarge's ass? Yowzers!

ranter said...

I'm looking forward to being able to shit myself in public without being arrested for it.......

I think anyone can do that these days. The police will take you home, bath you and also do some shopping for you, then notify social services, deal with your next of kin and make sure you are safe, secure and looked after before leaving - otherwise the IPCC will want to know why, have you banged up for misconduct and have your job.

Interesting report last week re the African savages that partially disembowelled a Ghanian man, serving as a British soldier, outside a 'club' opposite CP 5 and 200 yards from another similar watering (shit) hole near The Guildhall and got a few months at HM's pleasure. I say interesting as I was stunned to think the Corp of London has allowed such ghastly places to exist to exist within their boundary.

In my day there was a 'black' club/restaurant called Night Moves in Shoreditch, just North of Norton Folgate where the Biffs could stab and shoot each other without bothering the tranquility of the City.

The Snow Hill bar ... (a thin film of sweat forms across the top lip at the memories that remain)

Electro-Kevin said...

PS John A and Insp Jim Foran made for an inspirational management duo.

Our group had the highest thief take for that year.

I've heard about the new nightclubs and the upsurge in violent crime, Ranter. Some particularly gruesome knifings. Unheard of before - though we did have some nasty glassings (and ruined careers) among bankers. I also arrested a farrier who set about his boss with a skinning knife in a fit of temper.

One of the poor chaps I met at a recent reunion wanted to transfer out of the City but couldn't because of his age and the pension liability to the prospective force.

ranter said...

Jim F was/is a top chap. Not sure about Fatty Arbuckle though...never liked the man.

During the 80's and early 90's as the money and cocaine flowed, certainly disorder amongst the mockney and cockney loadsamoneys increased - some good chases of Golfs and BMW's back then too. Utter wankers a lot of them.

Old(er) cops are expensive little items these days - elsewhere if you are chief insp and above - redundancy could come sooner rather than later after July - who's have thought eh? The higher ups and common purpose clones were all warned and are part of it all.

BEAST said...

I have already done that on a few occassions
I once had to leave a pub walking like a crab with my back to the wall in beige chinos
Even worse I was with my mother and she had to hose me down with perfume just to get in a taxi
I will e holding my nose even tigter on about 90 mins as i am interviewing a prospective accountant
Like Montgomary Burns in The Simpsons when meeting with his lawyers Im always tempted to scream

A K Haart said...

"I wish I could go back and tell the daft bugger what I know now !"

In various ways you are telling your kids though.

DtP said...

If you go on a 3 day bender - not the Tatchell variety - then the prospect of crapping yourself is a clear and present danger. The risk of the follow through, the cider apple quick step etc. I think i've done it about 3 times but, fortunately, unlike Mr Beast, was always in a retrievable situation.

The worst was at Glastonbury where got to the main stage thingy and just sat down, "err, sorry lads, must dash, seem to have shat myself". Ah, wonder why i'm single sometimes....