i'm way past taking a ****, i actually had a neighbour
who was a police office -
last time i checked, i had barely any beef
surrounding the symbiosis of close encountered /
shared space... anway(s)...

1. the taxi

alcohol poisoning, a club near my school,
seven kings,
       warm *****, a nightclub with carpets
lining the dancefloor, rather than hard wood,
shady as ****,
drank a few shots of warm *****,
ended up stumbling to a bus-stop,
(once again, the british don't know how
to drink *****... you, store, it, in, a, frrrrrridge);
came off the bus, stumbled, collapsed,
lay unconscious on the pavement for
god know's how, woken up by polite
officers... i slurred as much politeness as i could
fathom... i never thought that a police van,
with the cage & all could be turned into
a taxi... ******* drove me home...
mind you: i've heard horror stories of drunks
in poland being driven to police stations,
and being charged for an overnight stay
in sobering cells, which charged you as much
as a five star hotel, no cushions, no real
bed, perhaps a slither of "bed sheets"...

2. the loss of virginity

i really did lose my virginity to a pair of handcuffs
for ******* in an alleyway...
i walked in, did an "ontario splits"
and ** ** **: 'ere came santa boppy...
handcuffed me as i knelt on the ground,
shouted at me in a state of: much ado about
bravado... i felt scorches of words (+ some spit)
raining on me like some egyptian plague,
lucky me, i was calm enough to explain
certain things to him: one, namely?
well, it's not your alley, is it?
a female officer stood there taking notes,
oh **** yeah, those handcuffs do sting a little...
but i'm a conventional drunk, namely:
the rare, docile kind...
     imagine my surprise, as i sat in the police
van, and the handcuffs were taken off,
and i was released...
   evidently there were bigger problems elsewhere,
i was just a drunk ******* in an alley.

3. taxi take no. 2

happened in harlow (essex):
  two bottles of wine,
      a few flowers chewed on and downed,
a poor dance to queen's bohemian rhapsody,
puking into the toilet,
being taken out by bouncers,
reclining on a bench, and then politely asking
the officer: sirs! could you... please...
take me home?!

4. a wrestling match

sat in the middle of a public arena in the night,
between a stretch of clubs & pubs,
drinking a beer on a bench...
two officers approach me,
  and i start to mock-wrestle with one of them
with both of us holding the same beer can...
- you can't drink here, in public...
  that was self-evident, i was drawing people
away from spending 4x as much on the same
beer i was drinking...
so we wrestled for a bit, then i allowed him
to win the "arm wrestle", and while he poured
the content of my beer bottle into the gutter,
i asked the other one:
   can i have a map of the restriction zone?
****... he gave me one... you can drink in
public as if you were on mainland europe,
outside the realm of the 5 roundabouts
of romford...

        obviously i was referring to
the curious incident of the dog in the night-time,
have i read it? no, i haven't read it,
but i thought about it in threes, even though
i managed to conjure four examples of
interacting with the pol-ease: ice ice baby...
i have no problem, given the fact that
they were my taxi at one point,
an arm-wrestle over a bottle of beer,
a potential taxi at another turn,
    and a much asked for loss of virginity
like a peer-pressured teen girl with a pair
of handcuffs.