Arrested Re-Development: Part 2

OK, Part 2. I couldn't be bothered to write this for ages because it's such a fucking long story.

A few Saturdays ago I did my usual trick of using watching Reading play some other bunch of cunts as an excuse to go drinking from midday until i could take no more on sunday. It's not so much an excuse but a necessary evil- I went to football sober the other night and was bored off my tits! I digress, I spent the day and night of that Saturday milling from bar to bar with a few mates before ending the night at the well known, premier Reading dive nightlub; The Afterdark, which, happily enough, is just around the corner from my house.

So, 5 of my mates and I filed out the club at kicking out time and I told everyone to come back to mine to continue the nights festivities. I walked down the street with a new found lady friend on my arm, whilst my chums went through the late night weekly ceremony of tryng to mop up any lonely, single girls left outside the club before they flagged a taxi home, which, as anyone who's been to The After Dark will testify, is a soul destroying but entirely necessary process unless, of course, you want to go home feeling that your whole night has been a one long drunken nightmare of getting shouted at by an angry Carribbean bouncer because he thinks it's you whose souly responsible for flooding the toilet with piss before he pushes you out the door and into a smoking area the size of a childs shoe box.

I made my way up the briskly up the street. My house is but 5 minutes walk away but I wanted to do it in double time as I was dying for a piss and really wasn't prepared to get my socks wet for a second time by using the facilities in the After Dark just before they were going to throw us out into the street. I got to the front door and reached into my pocket fo my door key. It wasn't there. I ripped out my pockets and placed everything I had into my companions cupped hands; chewing gum, my wallet, screwed up notes, my phone, rolled up notes, bits of paper, lots of change, more chewing gum, but no fucking key.
"Ah for fucks sake!" I said in desperation.
"Don't worry, Hun. Won't you're brother will be back soon? I'm sure he'll have key", replied my sensible, far less drunk friend.
"Ah ha! You're right!" I responded with relief. I had completely forgotten that I live with my brother and although i had lost my doorkeys during the days adventure, he would surely have one.
I waited patiently for all of 13 seconds. "Where the fuck is he? I'm dying for a piss!" There was still no sign of him after 20 seconds, so I took my phone back off the girl and gave him a call; "John, where the fuck are you?
"We're just in a taxi to Murco to get some booze. Do you want anything?"
"Yeah, I want you to hurry the fuck back here and open the house. I've lost my key, it's cold and I really need a piss! Oh and get me a bottle of vodka an some lemonade. And hurry the fuck up!"
"Yeah yeah! We'll be as long as it takes." he replied before we both hung up on eachother.
I couldn't wait for him to get back from the booze garage. It was 5 minutes each way in the taxi and that wasn't even allowing time for them to bumble their way around the shop looking at porn and 7 different kinds of crisps. I was gonna have to piss in my front garden with my female friend watching. I call it a garden but really it's a space that extends two foot fom the front of the house to a low wall that divides it from the pavement.
"Divert your eyes, Sweetheart. I'm gonna have to go here", I said with fag hanging out my mouth whilst undoing my jean buttons and readying myself for the flow. I turned around to face the wall of the house and started pissing up against it beneath the front window. A surge of relief ran over my nether regions as a long, sallow 5 pint piss jet hit the wall and splashed down onto the cracked patio stones of the front garden.
"Excuse me! What do you think you are doing?" came a voice that wasn't my lady friends.
"I'm having a slash, what does..." I began before looking round to see a two policemen.
"Yes, i can see that but what do you think you're doing going to the toilet on the street?" said the copper.
"The street?" i replied, "The street?" I said again for emphasis, "This isn't the street. This is my house and my garden." I gestured with my free hand as if waving an arm to illustrate a vast expense of land, whilst carrying on with my piss. "I lost my keys and got caught short, so i'm having to go here".
"Well stop it now and put it away. I'm sure you realise it's an offence to urinate in the street."
"Um, yes I am aware of that but i'm not urinating in the street. I'm urinating on my own house. See? The urine hasn't gone anywhere near the street. It's just going down the cracks in my patio."
"You're urinating in a public place and i'm going to have to give you an on-the-spot fine."
"A fine, dear Sir? Is that really necessary? I have explained that there are extenuating circumstances, so can you not find it in your heart to exercise a little bit of discretion in this instance and we'll all go on our merry way, my good fellow?" Is perhaps what I would have said if I was less drunk and living in the Victorian era, but instead I exclaimed indignantly;
"A fine! A fucking fine! You can't give me a fine for pissing on my own house. It's private property, for fucks sake! That's fucking ridiculous!" I then noticed that he was a PCSO and that his silent companion was the real policeman. I foolishly decided to try and converse with the organ grinder and not the monkey. "Is this a wind up? Or some training exercise? This guy can't give me a fine for pissing on my own fucking property?
"I'm afraid he can, Sir. And if you don't stop swearing we can arrest you." Well this was an aural red rag to a bull. I'm usually a placid person but am prone to bouts of rage when faced with idiocy of the highest order. Especially when drunk.
"I can't believe this. Firstly, he's writing out a fine because I got caught short and pissed in my own garden and secondly, because I've rightly got a bit annoyed about the whole thing you're threatening to arrest me for swearing. If you two had any common sense you'd have just walked on without this bullshit."
"Last warning, Sir!"
"Right i won't swear anymore but i hope you two power mongers can sleep at night. And look at him writing that with his little notebook and pencil like he's a real policeman! Ah bless!"
"Come on, Paul just leave it" said my friend.
"Yes come on, Paul. Listen to your girlfriend. I'm gonna need to take some details" said the PCSO with a noticeable smirk that only served to bhoy my sense of injustice.
"You're loving this aren't you? Is this really what you signed up for?"
"I'm just doing my job?" He replied
"Your job? Your job should be making sure peole aren't lumping 7 shades of shite out of eachother around the corner, not fining me for pissing on my own house. And besides, it's not even a real job!"
He ignored this insult and asked for my full name, which I gave to him.
"And your full address please?" he asked
"You're stood outside it!" I said in disbelief. "That's my whole point!"
"Can you just state your full address please?"
"Right, fair enough" I said whilst walking closer to the wall dividing us to get a closer look at what he was writing. "Are you gonna write this down then? My address is; Piss House. Number 1 Toilet Street. Reading. Berkshire. RG1 1PP."
He stopped witing on the pad and looked up to see my face, smiling from ear to ear at the childishness of my own crappy joke.
"Very amusing. What's you're real address?"
I had no intention of making it easy for him.
"Well, you see that number on the door? Thats the number I live at. And you see that road sign attached to this here wall? That's the road I live on." He continued to ask me a few more questions as I lit another cigarette and chatted to my friend about the ridiculousness of the situation, though she was more interested in an ending being brought to it rather than it's ridiculous nature.
"Just be quiet and take the bloody ticket!" she said impatiently.
"I'm gonna have to, by the looks of things!" I replied.
The policeman called me for my attention, reeled off a long legal speil and gave me the ticket. With that, my brother taxi pulled up outside the house and got out with 3 friends, all sans women. "What's going on?" he asked.
"This muppet has given me a £90 fine for pissing in our garden. It's fucking ridiculous!"
The real copper sprang into action. I had given him the excuse he was waiting for; "Right, you've been warned! I'm arresting you under Section 5 of The Public Order Act for swearing at a Police Officer and for being drunk and disorderly!"
"WHAT! I might be drunk but i'm not disorderly. I'm just trying to get into my house" I said pathetically as the realisation that I had let this stupid situation slide into the farcical set in. My brother and friends argued the toss but it wasn't making a difference.
He came around into the garden and made me turn around whilst he put cuffs on me. I had fought the law and the law had won. I wasn't going to aggrievate the situation by struggling or resisting arrest but I'm afraid my mouth went into overdrive "THIS IS FUCKING OUTRAGEOUS! YOU'RE ARRESTING ME FOR PISSING ON MY OWN HOUSE".
"No, you got a fine for that. I'm arresting you for swearing at a police officer."
I DIDN'T SWEAR AT A POLICE OFFICER. I SAID THAT THIS WAS FUCKING RIDICULOUS AND IT IS. Oh and, by the way, you've just stepped in my piss! Ha ha!"
My girlfriend stood with her head in her hands before announcing that she was going inside.
"Laura, you work at the Evening Post" I said "write an article about this fucking nonsense!"
"Paul, It's Lauren and I told you ages ago that I just work in the advertising section. You don't listen! And besides- do you really want people to read about this in the paper?" she said before shaking her head and turning on her heels towards the now open front door.
"Just listen to your, girlfriend, mate!" said the policeman as he led me to the police car that had now arrived.
"I'm not your fucking mate. And she's not my girlfriend!".
I then noticed that the next door neighbours were looking out the window at this whole scene. Rather than not make any further fuss I drunkenly decided to tell them what an incredible injustice was unfolding before their eyes, just in case they thought I was a drug dealer or a paedophile or worse, "THEY'RE ARRESTING ME FOR PISSING ON MY OWN GARDEN. RIDICULOUS, ISN'T IT?" PISSING ON MY OWN BLOODY HOUSE!!!" and with that they shut the curtains and the policeman ducked my head into the car for the 2nd time in a fortnight.

To compound my misery, as the car moved off down the street and I peered out thw window, I was faced with the heartbreaking sight of my grinning brother at the doorway with my bottle of vodka in one arm and my new found lady friend in the other, with my friends waving sarcastically behind them.

Everyone, except me, is a bastard!