Party Animal

I do have some friends.

Other than Police officers that is.

Occasionally they realise their social gathering guest list is safe enough for me to be invited, and I get to break out the civvies ready for a wild night out.

You know the sort of thing. Little Isabella is having her 1st birthday party. After the requisite amount of hours cooing over photos, videos, DVDs, MPEGs and real life small people, the adults get to binge drink until it’s time to get home for the babysitter.

We can reminisce about the days gone by when we didn’t need a reason to party. Days when Little Isabella and her ilk were just very scary thoughts, put to the backs of our minds. That was until body clocks started chiming all over suburbia.

If we’re really lucky, there’ll be a bouncy castle.

It’s at this time I know I can rely on my close friends. They won’t be in the queue.

You see I’ve noticed you looking at me this evening. Word has clearly spread to the uninitiated.

There’s a Police officer here!

He looks approachable enough. He’s been drinking beer too. Wow.

You’ve reached the minimum 4 alcohol unit threshold and it’s time to make your opening gambit.

Sigh. Luckily, I’ve done my networking early. I’ve found a builder who will be happy to talk to me on Monday morning to arrange an appointment. I’ll find out then if any jobs he’s done have appeared on DIY-SOS. He looks too busy enjoying himself to tackle that now.

I’m now in full public relations mode.

Yes, I enjoy my job.

No, I’m not on duty now.

Yes, I have seen some gruesome sights.

Let me think. Perhaps you’d like to hear about the two week old hanging, complete with maggots, as you tuck into that prawn vol-a-vent? Maybe that sushi will taste nicer if I relate the tale of the car crash decapitation from the other week?

No, I have nothing to do with speed cameras.

No, I don’t have a Lodge friend who is in charge of speed cameras.

No, I don’t know why your 5 year old burglary hasn’t been solved yet.

No, nor where your last but one car is.

No, I don’t watch it.

No, I don’t know Tony Stamp, or Reg Hollis.

Yes, I do have my own handcuffs.

No, I leave them at work.

No, I don’t plan to drive myself home.

No, after 7 glasses of Chilean Rioja, I think you should consider a taxi.

Yes, even though we’ve had a big meal.

No, to the best of my knowledge, none of them moonlight as strip-o-grams.

No, I don’t think they’ll change their minds for your mate’s 40th.

Bouncy castle anyone?