People in the UK, are a lot like anywhere else. They complain, rather loudly thank you very much. What they complain about, again is not that much different from anywhere else. They complain about the state of public transport, the hospital’s, the schools, and dirty politicians.

But what they complain loudest about, is the state of crime, or as I see it, the sad state of policing in general. All anyone needs to do is read the paper for a day or two, and you’ll see pleanty of examples of out of control crime, hapless police, and a just plain stupid judiciary (I reserve the harshes criticism for the CPS).

But there is no better example to point out failure, than a personal one. So I submit the following example of the sheer stupidity of some of the men and woman who patrol our streets to make London a better place. Though, if you live in London, you know this is somewhat of a joke already, the police rarely patrol the streets anymore!

But I digress.

A week ago I was on my way home from work on a cold rainy day, somewhere in North London (actual location secret to protect me!), when suddenly an eruption of alarms started going off at a local bike shop. Being London, no one payed any mind to the claxons going off. Suddenly, a man comes running from the side of the shop with a brand new bike, price tags still fluttering from the handlebars. Now, I’m not the sharpest tool in the box but I think this looks pecular, don’t you!

Minutes later, as I’m waiting for my bus, the ubiquitous speeding police car comes screeching to a halt and a couple of London’s finest jump out and quickly case the scene. Now this is where it gets interesting. I make eye contact with one of the coppers and shout ‘excuse me officer’ waving my hand to get his attention. He saunters over. I proceed to tell him what I know, described the man, and even pointed to the side street the guy went down, almost right behind me. Suddenly, the office asks, rather loudly.

Officer: Ya mean ‘im? (Translation: You mean that gentlemen over there?)
Me: (shaking my head no) Yes, thats the guy.
Officer: Ya sure you don’t mean ‘im (pointing finger right at the guy with the bike)
Me: (again shaking my head) That is the guy, yes. I obviously don’t want him to know I’m telling you this.

I walk away disgusted but amused at the guys inability to graps the obvious. I want to make London a safer place, I just don’t want to be knifed in the process.

What made it more comical though, was the following exchange between the cop and the man with the bike.

Officer: That your bike there?
Man: Aye
Officer: Carry on then.

The officer walked back to his car, and proceeded to enter the shop. The man, just calmly turned around and walked away. It was so fucking obvious that a blind man could have seen this bike had been recently nicked. The bike was brand new, no splatter marks or mud, despite the day being rainy and muddy. The price tags, which were removed, still had the plastic rings where the tags had been seconds ago, still on the handlebars and the frame. And the tires, looked like they had never been used, ever. But thank god we can live in a country where your word, and the word of a potential (and probable) criminal is all you need to get off scott free.