I have a reason for that statement. Last week I played a gig at The Stand comedy Club Glasgow. Three things happened that were amazingly good and lead me onto this story.
Firstly, after the gig a TV producer asked me to audition for a movie as they were looking a good mouthy Scottish person!
Secondly a lovely woman emailed my manager and booked me for a corporate gig in February.
Thirdly, I found a wad of cash on the bar floor of the club!
I announced to the audience that I had found a substantial amount of money and to please check their purses and wallets, as it was a specific amount they could go to the bar and claim their lost money.
I did also point out that going to the bar and guessing “Was it ten pounds? Was it twenty pounds?” was not a good idea!
The upshot was NOBODY claimed the cash! I know… how strange?
I do suspect however, that as I was on first and about ten people left as soon as I came off (they only came to see me apparently!) maybe one of those people lost the money but did not really take my announcement seriously and just went off into the cold night.
The bar manager told me to hold onto the cash for a week then take it to the police office, as I found it…it was therefore my responsibility to take it and deal with it.
So today I marched up to a police office in the city. The main desk is situated in an open reception type set up. As I was about to be seen to, three skinny Glaswegians wearing white sports wear, but looked unlikely to be the people who actually take part in any form of track sports, stood behind me muttering to themselves. They smelled of methadone and cheap cider (I know the scent of both, I have a great nose), they managed to swear in the middle of words that made me laugh and reminded me of my mammy who was adept at the very same thing.
I could hear the black greasy haired one say-
“Its unbe-fucking- lievably cunty-fucking-ing cold out there”
I waited for the small skinny policeman, to approach me as I listened in to the conversation behind me.
I explained to the policeman who had a funny hissing speech impediment that I had found some cash. This quickly alerted the sweary methadone boys behind me to listen closer…they hushed and whispered to each other as I spoke.
The strange wee policeman asked me loudly “Where and when did you find the money, and then tell me how much and what notes they are in”
I looked at him with disbelief and replied “No, can I write it down?”
He stared at me, hissed a bit and said “It has to be my handwriting on the form actually, so tell me the details please?”
“Well to be honest there are people here who could hear me then pretend to be the people who have lost the cash and claim it, as they would now have all the details needed to prove they lost it…it is just me or are you the policeman from the kids show Balamory?” I snapped at him.
At this, the shell suited needs barked behind me “Excuse me missus, we urny here tae steal yir money, ya cheeky old cow”
The stupid desk policeman smirked and added with an air of authority “Well I would know it was them as I know who they are”
At this I laughed and said “Yes of course stupid me, and they wont have the brains to tell SOMEONE else to come in and claim this wad of cash…are you a special needs policeman?”
The copper went red, got angry, the Neds started swearing at me and I added “look, can you get me someone else to deal with this situation in confidence…maybe a real policeman?”
The young speech impedimented police type man spoke loudly with indignation “I think you should stop being abusive, I am trying to deal with this”
I looked him right in the eyes and spoke “I know someone who murdered someone, can you get me a detective now?”
He disappeared into the back office. The methadone mob called me a cheeky fat cow. I turned to face them and spoke “I am sorry I don’t understand poor” and faced the desk again.
An older detective came out and ushered me into the side room off the main reception.
“Ok what is going on here, you seem to have upset the desk officer” he said as he sat down in the beige brightly lit interview room.
“Listen I don’t know anyone who killed anyone, I am here to hand in money I found and PC Plum out there is insisting I give the details of the find out loudly in front of the ‘junkies in acrylic gang’, now I want this money to go to the rightful owner, not some fuckwit who
overheard how to claim it…is that wee guy with the funny hissing voice really a policeman?”
The older man laughed and quickly took down the details and gave me a receipt. Job done.
This whole episode reminded me of a situation ten years ago.
My husband had witnessed a young man being beaten half to death at cash point near our home by a couple of skanky bastards and became a vital witness in the case. The young boy was a local student innocently taking some cash and he was now in a coma.
We had to attend a meeting at the Pitt Street police office the next week and as we gathered in the main reception, I quickly realised that the two men beside me were actually the attacker’s family, as they were talking about him and openly wondered who the witnesses were and who the victim’s family were!
My husband was parking the car at this point when a young police woman came out and said “regarding the case of Justin McClellan” and then shouted my husband’s name, giving out OUR address and asking him to come forward, all this in front of the attackers family!
I stepped forward and quickly shut her up and demanded to speak to the most superior person in that building. After a short fuss, I was taken upstairs to big room, where I explained what had just happened.
It was a fucking atrocious thing to do, I am not scared of the would be student killers, but our child lived there and all it would take is for one of those cunts to figure out who she was and attack her on her way to school, THEY HAD OUR FAMILY NAME!
Apologies were spouted, I was still livid and demanded to know why they never bothered to use any kind of intelligence to figure who may be in that waiting area… They explained they didn’t know other people concerning the case were in the public area…this is why people DON’T come forward when the police need witnesses…suffice to say husband was unperturbed, he never did have to give evidence as the guy pled guilty.
I know there are many good policemen out there…but I seem to only know the stupid ones.
No comments:
Post a Comment