Brian's Brief Encounters

This is an Unofficial Kaffe Fassett fanzine. Brought to you from a Leafy Suburb of the Throbbing Metropolis.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Silly Girl

I’m sure you are normally a very pleasant person.

I’m sure you don’t normally act in this manner.

I know you’re past the stage of calling out to me to show you my truncheon.

I can see you haven’t yet reached the collapsed in a dishevelled, vomit stained heap phase.

No, you’re at that dangerous state of inebriation where all your listening and reasoning skills have been suitably dulled.

I understand you didn’t plan this end to your night, with your loved one busy protecting your honour in Small Corner custom while you shriek at him. I apologise for the quaint old Police tradition of having to arrest him for doing this. I know he ‘didn’t do nuffink’, but I don’t really have the time to explain the finer points of English grammar to you right now.

Trying to pull me off him isn’t really going to work is it? Neither is screaming all those rude words at me. Now you know why we have short hair. There was no call for scratching my neck; you’ll be needing a visit to your nail technician now and I’ll have some explaining to do to Mrs Brian.

What I now need to get across is that I don’t want to arrest you. I really don’t. You aren’t making it easy for me though, are you? I need you to back off, but you’re too busy insulting me to hear. If you’d been a bloke we wouldn’t be having this problem. A simple technique would have you either backing away or falling on your arse. Unfortunately, you’re built differently and I really don’t need the certain complaint.

Grabbing your wrists was the only thing I could do. Why did you then have to try and bite me and knee me in the groin? Mrs Brian is very understanding, but you nearly got me a month in the spare room. That’s why I arrested you.

By the way, “Yes I ******* can”, just in case that wasn’t clear from what happened next. I know I didn’t handcuff you, that’s because they don’t come in pissed bint size. Trust me, I didn’t want to stand there bobbing and weaving waiting for the van.

I’m not sure if you greet every new person you meet in the same fashion, but, I don’t think the Custody Sergeant was very smitten with you. I’m sure he’d feel differently if he got to know you better. Besides, you weren’t really looking your best were you? I’m just glad that your mother couldn’t see you. Or hear you. I’m certain she would have grounded you.

It was clear you still hadn’t regained your listening abilities and there was no further point trying to speak to you. Just one last formality before you were shown to your bed for the night. You didn’t get any better at first impressions did you? They were wearing them because they didn’t really want to have to touch you and I happen to know both of their boyfriends. So no, they’re not.

How did I know you were going to be claustrophobic? Strange you didn’t mention it during your monologue in the back of the van. I’ll make a note of it.

No, you can’t have a fag.

No, not even now that you’re crying.

Night, night.

18 Comments:

At 20/10/05 1:05 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

How very, very familiar. Pissed barely past puberty bints who are very clear about just one thing :- that I "Can't F*****g do that!" when they are forcefully manhandled (yes, I said MANhandled) away from the altercation. And then seem to become miraculously clear that I also "can't F*****g do that you F*****g smelly triple-chinned C**t, I hope you F*****g catch cancer and die a slow lonely death and somone rapes your F*****g wife, the slag F*****g deserves it for marrying a F*****g pig like you you fat C**t" (now isn't the time to point out I'm not married). I also don't have time to communicate how utterly charmed I am with her splendid command of English as I'm too busy helping my oppos put the leg restraints on because she has decided someone really needs to feel her spiky stilleto in their groin (hey, I normally have to pay for that kind of treatment!)
Oh yes, drunken bints, what fun. Can't slap 'em, have to gas 'em!

 
At 20/10/05 10:39 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

What was her boyfriend doing that meant you had to arrest him (while avoiding her heels)?

 
At 20/10/05 12:04 PM, Blogger MuppetLord said...

Probably fighting. Sounds like a night out in Blackpool.

Aren't modern liberated women wonderful? Free to get smashed and probably more obnoxious than the men....and they don't know when to stop. How civilised.

 
At 20/10/05 12:14 PM, Blogger JonnyB said...

Yeah, I'm really sorry about my mum.

 
At 20/10/05 2:14 PM, Blogger Lennie Briscoe said...

hehe. That sounds very familiar. What is good is when she is a hottie. There always seems to be a group of officers following the girl around. "Oh look, she just stepped up into the van with her mini skirt flapping in the wind".

 
At 20/10/05 4:46 PM, Anonymous miss o said...

Er... excuse me muppetlord, but not all modern liberated women behave as such! I am young (27), modern and extremely civilised AND I live in Chatham (where the odds are stacked hugely against me being so)!!

Miss O. x

 
At 20/10/05 5:38 PM, Blogger John said...

I wonder if there is a world shortage of mirrors? Because that is the only explanation possible for the state that some of these women look when they go out.

Having said that, they look 10 times worse when they wake up in the cells the folowing morning, with make-up all over their face and hair everywhere.

Yet some men find them attractive enough to want to procreate?

 
At 20/10/05 10:39 PM, Blogger Argos_Employee said...

Lennie you crazy guy you! Anyway it sounds familiar at my store as well when you get all the security guards coming in and also the Police turing up in record time as soon as the phrase mentioned, 'She's hot!' is announced over the airwaves.

As always I love your Blog Brian!

 
At 20/10/05 11:19 PM, Blogger MuppetLord said...

Sorry, Miss O. It's just that there are a lot of modern liberated women on a night out who aren't very restrained.

It was a general comment, not specific to you.

 
At 21/10/05 12:37 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

sounds familiar...apparently in the tiny hamlet in which i apparently rule with an iron fist you cant arrest gobs***e p****d girls that are 6 months pregnant for smashing a phone box to bits "cosiaintgotnowtbettertodo" in the local soup kitchen because the support worker says so!! Oh and whoa betide you if you even try to stop said little angel from actually going behind the counter in the kitchen area to potentially arm herself....complaint overruled....dont interfere with me and i wont interfere you dishing out soup....ta....

 
At 21/10/05 12:39 AM, Blogger gemmak said...

Not sure whether i should laugh or cry at that....how you maintain even a veneer of patience is beyond me! ;o)

 
At 21/10/05 4:14 AM, Blogger Karyn said...

My husband must work for the wrong police force then, Lennie, because he says it's never the women that he would want to see naked than he ends up seeing naked.

 
At 21/10/05 4:15 AM, Blogger Karyn said...

Sorry, THAT he ends up seeing naked.

Now, enough about the lovely lasses that my husband gets to see in their altogether!

 
At 22/10/05 10:57 AM, Blogger Towertown Trash said...

Brian,drifted in here thanks to most of your 'film crew'. You brought back many memories of my three oh 'oop north'. Absolutely brilliant blog mate, so good i just spent all last night reading through your previous,ROFL (Dr Bells helped) - keep it coming.

Stu.

 
At 22/10/05 12:19 PM, Anonymous RichieB said...

Brilliant, as always!
"Pissed little bint size", pure genius.

 
At 22/10/05 2:01 PM, Blogger frankp said...

Brian

That piece is as as good as any Bob Newhart solo sketch, or even a Gerard Hoffnung 'after dinner' monologue. Ask your Dad about them if you're too young to remember their work. Brilliant! Sorry to repeat myself ad nauseum, but GET AN AGENT! I hate to see talent not receiving its due reward, even as a beneficiary of your wit and largesse. People with far less writing ability and comic observation are being highly paid for their published product in the MSM.

 
At 23/10/05 12:03 PM, Blogger Scully said...

Oh how true is this little scenario. It's amazing you know, I must have a dual personality, because when I am at work I am a 'f**king fat lesbian' or ''f**king ugly dyke', yet the minute I am not working and meet decent members of the public, I'm back to being the same, fairly average looking, size 12 hetrosexual female that my DBF knows and loves well!
You write brilliantly. I've just found your blog, from another, and have blogrolled it...hope you don't mind. I may even get DBF, who is a blog virgin to read this as I'm sure he'll love it too. Keep it coming. Oh and if you see my blog...yes I really am in the job, despite the furry, cute fluffy 'boringness' that my blog suggests :) (and no...you won't find it interesting!)

 
At 25/10/05 7:41 PM, Anonymous ****ed Off said...

Don't we all love our jobs ........clearly!!!!!

 

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