Copper dogs and Shit like that

Picture this! You are on your second date and you are eager to please the object of your affection. The first date went extremely well so you think to hell with it I’ll take him to my local. You’re enjoying your flirtatious banter over a schooner of New when he leans over and whispers in your ear “Careful the person behind you is a repeat offender.”

Saturday night and I am at Marrickville’s Royal Exchange Hotel sharing my romantic evening with a police identified repeat offender.

My date was of course a police officer. Apparently photographs of repeat offenders are plastered over the walls of inner west Police Stations.

This bloke, the repeat offender, had just come out of jail l a week ago for armed robbery. “He comes from a criminal family and his brother is still in jail”, he said.

Sneaking a look at my fellow dining companion behind me, all I saw was a seemingly gentle giant tucking into the specially priced T-bone steak with mash potato and a side of steamed vegetables.

Beats prison porridge I suppose.

Dating a police officer had its upside. Pillow talk gave me a unique insight into some of the machinations of the Force. Criminals affectionately call them ‘Copper Dogs’ and Police call them ‘shit’.

According to my copper dog, Marrickville is full of shit.

One night in my favourite noodle bar I asked my Copper Dog if he could spot any diners who were ‘shit’.

Gazing over the diners he replied, “That one over there used to be a shit, and that one over there will become a shit”.

Another day as we took a leisurely walk down Illawarra Rd, my Copper dog nominated which passer by he would stop to do a search.

The problem was, it was most passers by.

I’ve never had any problems in Marrickville – here’s hoping’. Once I was called a ‘curry cunt’ by an irate woman when I refused to give her any money. But that was in Burwood NOT Marrickville.

Have you been the victim of a crime?