Lounge Room Arrest

I nearly got arrested in my lounge room the other night. Yep that’s right. The potential arrest happened over dinner with the copper dog and my sister, Evie and her husband, John.

My relatives were rather forthright in sharing my ‘crime stories’ with the copper dog – some of which feature in this blog.

Good naturedly he dismissed them all until the ‘chilli in the mailbox’ incident came up.

The ‘chilli in the mailbox’ incident you ask? Well let me provide you with some background information.

I was having a lot of trouble with my upstairs neighbours. They were noisy 24/7. This ‘noise’ included bong drums, screaming and of course that heavy bass sounding doof doof doof which would infiltrate every empty cell of quietness in my home.

It wasn’t particularly pleasant on a Saturday morning, nor throughout Sunday or any day of the week. My neighbour Branko, who came from Croatia was happy to suffer in silence. He reckoned that this noise was better than a plane dropping bombs on his head. Something he was used to back home.

My incompetent strata manager was completely useless and there is only so many times that a girl can call the police. After all they had other crimes to fight.

In the wee hours of a Saturday morning. I had enough. I took out a bottle of chilli sauce and proceeded to spill it all over the mailbox.

When this story was told to the copper dog he was mortified.

“That’s really bad Christine. You know you can be charged for vicious damage (chilli sauce?) and get a criminal record. I won’t worry……...for now anyway”.

I think John put it into perspective.

“I’m trying to make the link between noise and chilli sauce. I mean imagine when the neighbours find chilli sauce in the mailbox. Are they expected to automatically think, Oh we made a lot of noise last night?”

Anyway the evening ended on a high, with more amusing stories told by the copper dog including searching an ex crim’s bag only to find it packed with shit, saving a life when all his partner did was stand next to him and shout “OMG” and how dumb the majority of cops are.

The end.

Postscript. Unfortunately readers you will no longer get insights into the NSW Police force. The copper dog since dumped me via text. Interesting huh? I mean the man can beat up junkies, make arrests and tell big blokes “What the fuck are you looking at” Yet he can’t even tell a girl over the phone he can no longer see her. He’s no longer my copper dog. Instead he’s just “Dickhead Rod”. Oh and he used to work at Glebe Police Station.