Monday in a nutshell:
Excellent breakfast, great food-thievery, ten hour drive via everywhere, first proper lie-in for three weeks.
Tuesday in a nutshell:
Dry cleaning - check
Washing - check
Car - new engine being fitted
PO Box - empty
Food shopping - check
Email lists updated - check
Press releases for next weekend's shows - sent
"The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest" - finished.
Dinner in L'Artista - check
Walk home from L'Artista:
Seemed to be going all right until I walked through the park. There was a man laid out as if crucified on the ground. He was probably about my age, fat and (I thought) completely pissed. I contemplated going to see if he was all right but thought it might have been a trap and other fat men would jump out from the bushes and mug me or steal my chips or something.
Anyway, the two oriental teenage emos walking behind me could sort him out if they wanted to .
I carried on up the road but within about a hundred yards was beginning to have unusual pangs of guilt - what if he was in real trouble? WHAT IF HIS MATES ATE THE ORIENTAL TEENAGE EMOS?
I felt in to my front pocket for my mobile and was about to dial 999 when I heard a high-pitched "Paul!" behind me. I looked round to see one of the oriental teenage emos running towards me, clearly out of breath and clearly NOT AN ORIENTAL TEENAGE EMO. She was actually my next door neighbour. How I had mistaken her and her boyfriend for oriental teenage emos is beyond me but I can only suggest extreme post-Edinburgh tiredness and a rather full-blooded red in the restaurant. She and her boyfriend (Also not an oriental teenage emo) had tried to call the emergency services but their batteries were flat so he had despatched her to run after me to see if my phone was charged up.
I reluctantly returned to the drama. By now the guy had come round, was staggering about a bit and had some extreme wounds to his right arm. He was polite, apologetic and sat down on a park bench. I called an ambulance. They asked ridiculous questions before agreeing to send someone and asked me to wait on the road by the park to flag them down.
By coincidence, when I walked back on to the road there was a police car there and its lights were flashing. I walked over to the two young coppers (She was rather fit, by the way) and asked if they had responded to my call.
They had been attending to another incident.
Note to self: Don't fucking approach rozzers without a very good fucking reason because it only gets complicated.
I walked them in to the park where they actually did a really good job. They talked to the guy in question (Who was clearly a disturbed fuckwit) and kept the man calm while we all waited for the paramedics. The Bloodied Antihero was becoming a little on the defensive and at one point pointed at me and said "I know you, don't I? I've seen you three or four times now - Are you a policeman?".
I thought it best to not say "No - I'm a local celebrity".
Anyway, he was in the main, calm, I had to do a fucking statement about what had happened which I wasn't pleased about and then another police car showed up, this time filled with a couple of absolute wankers, the like of which let the force down, breed trouble, lead to arrests for abusing/assaulting police officers, aggravate situations and generally act like the fucking bell ends the general public take the police to be.
Idiot number 1 approached at speed and in a forthright manner holding his torch like an American copper. He steamrollered over the delicate discussions the original (And best) coppers had begun and started demanding answers from the claret muppet to questions that didn't need asking. "How much have you had to drink?" he barked, "What are you doing in the park?" he shouted. I took nice lady constable to one side and said "Can you get this guy away - he's really fucking things up and the man who was waiting for an ambulance is clearly looking for ways to escape the police - look - he's backing off".
Our poor, self-harming, bewildered loser was now becoming a dangerous, cornered animal, the hectoring from officer dickhead was getting worse and the situation was spiralling out of control. Eventually, I piped up and said "Look, we've called a paramedic for this guy and this is not a police affair - can you just calm down a little?". Cuntstubble Wankpot then turned on me "Are you a friend of this man - a good friend of his?". I replied that I was only his friend in so much as I had been one of three people who had found him in the park and was trying to do him a favour. All the twat heard was "Yes". He was so worked up it was ridiculous and turned his questioning to me - now the torch was in my face. He was unbelievable. I have never seen an officer of the law deal with a situation so badly. This man is an embarrassment to the force and people like him put policing back centuries. His primal fuckwittery had turned a minor medical emergency into a particularly hostile and potentially dangerous situation.
I saw the paramedics show up so walked away from his questioning. I expected him to bark after me but he didn't. I gave them a brief synopsis of events and suggested they got the injured guy in the back of their vehicle as quickly as possible before Sergeant Harassment actually caused an arrest by provoking the rouged simpleton into a solicited attack. They could see what was going on and said that (sadly) they had dealt with this legally armed retard before. Said little Hitler then moved myself and the (not) oriental teenage emos along for our own safety. The other officers said goodbye and thank you to us. I could see in their eyes that they were squirming with embarrassment. I don't know what happened after that but can only hope the forlorn suicide-waiting-to-happen got the treatment he needed. If I am contacted by the police (they said there was a likelihood that I would be) I shall be making my feelings very clear - I might even let them read my blog.