From: rhinoceros (rhinoceros@freemail.gr)
Date: Thu Apr 01 2004 - 09:14:58 MST
[Blunderov]
In a galaxy far, far away (London in the early 70's actually) I happened to be searched in a vice squad raid on the Kensington market. (Just down the road from the Albert Hall, it was a popular hangout).
The newbie vice squad cop who was turning out my pockets insisted on me describing every item to him, no matter how innocent.
<snip>
[rhinoceros]
My own similar experience from London dates back to the late 70s, at 3 AM in the morning in the empty streets, dead drunk and walking back from Piccadilly Circus to a place called Camberwell.
I stood at a corner to take care of some quick business and here he was, a cop with a flashlight. I had an electronic part with me which I had purchased from a Heathkit dealer at noon, and he looked alarmed when I told him that it was "just an 11-position rotary switch". After trying hard to read my Greek ID card (I had left my passport at home) he gave up. He asked me my name, he scribbled something on his notebook, and he walked away.
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