The police

In the course of my work as a cycle courier, I am obliged to break as many rules of the road as possible. The Metropolitan Police do not assist me in this. On the contrary, they go to great lengths to prevent me fulfilling my duties as a ne'er do well.

I have only been stopped by the police once (so far), and it was - shall we say? - interesting. I was trundling along, as one does. I saw the police car, and moved ahead. Not far enough ahead, as it happens. I ran a few red lights, and lo, there were wailing sirens behind me. The car pulled alongside me, at a light for which I had deigned to stop.
"Oi, you! Round the corner. Now!" Fine morning for it officer.
Once off the road, I pulled up on the passenger side of the police car to listen to their gentle advice. But this was unsatisfactory. The driver stepped out, and ordered me off my bike, and onto the pavement. He advanced until I was up against the wall, then stuck his face in mine.
'Ah, the softly-softly approach', I thought.
"Do you know why we stopped you?" I didn't much like this line of questioning, so I proceeded with my own enquiry (yes, really): "Hold on - I saw you make a right at a no-right-turns junction further back."
This pissed knacker right off: "I'm asking the questions here! Why did we stop you? Police have special dispensation! [word of the day 12/06/06] You don't want to go there mate!"
Yes, special dispensation. Like that policeman jailed for speeding. Very handy on the street to quiet a bunch of pot-addled couriers, but not so clever up in front of m'learned chums.
After continuing my enquiry for a few more moments, I was ordered to "shut up". Serve and protect old boy, serve and protect.
"You have a choice: either I'm going to give you a friendly talking to, or I'm going to give you a fine. Which'll it be?"
My response can be credited with being honest, if nothing else: "If this is friendly, then I don't want to know what unfriendly is like."
Was my new friend going to realise he was being raucous (he was shouting now), and tone it down some? No.
"Yes! Exactly! You don't want to know what unfriendly is like!" His face was very close to mine. I was admiring his empeccable shaving (especially under the nose, a tricky spot indeed).
To finish our little tête á tête, he told me to say "I'm sorry officer. It won't happen again."
But this just wasn't going to happen. I laughed, and mumbled "it won't happen again", with enough of a pause and a smile for him to grasp the unspoken addendum "while the fuzz is watching."
He was sick of the sight of me, so he drove away.