I’ve just got home from a rather long lunch. It started at 2pm in a coffee shop, and ended up at about 2.30am in The Fountain. It’s all Robert’s fault.
Anyway. I’m fuming.
On the way home, I’m stopped by the police. “Can I ask where you’re going?”
“I’m on my way home from the pub”
He asks for my name and date of birth and calls into the station for a check. There are other questions, like where I live and whether I’ve been in trouble with the police. I suddenly feel like I’m a criminal for daring to walk home out of the prescribed hours. He picks up my attitude and tells me that he’s perfectly entitled to question me on anything he wants. I tell him that I’m perfectly entitled to walk home from the pub, I’ve been doing it for several years now.
After a short stand-off, he tells me I’m free to go. I should think so too. That was not what I wanted tonight, thank you so very much.