Busted
I had been out midweek celebrating my 18th with my friends Darren, Stuart and Kenneth in our local, a place we had been frequenting since we were 15 (my aunt owned it, happily). After numerous jars of Tennants, badly played games of pool, pisstaking, showy attempts at musical coolness at the jukebox, references to the sexual desirability of each other's mothers and furtive glances at the ladies present (we might even have exchange a few words with one or two of them), at closing time we staggered out, slurring and stumbling merrily.

Having a small amount of resin, tobacco and skins in my pocket, there was no reason to be going home yet. Instead we noisily ambled throught the dark smalltown streets. At one point I tried to climb up a lamppost, then bethought myself and tried to roll a joint on the kerb. My friends kindly pointed out the stupidity of this, and at Kenneth's suggestion we made our way to the nearby golfcourse clubhouse, behind which we could sit in seclusion overlooking the peaceful green. I rolled a MASSIVE DRUGS joint and we enjoyed the warm fuzzy smoke and the warm fuzzy brain. Damn, we were smooth.

Then suddenly a policevan appeared out of nowhere, bright lights shocking us. There was no chance of scarpering; they had their quarry clear in their sights.

"Evening gents," says Mr Very Tall and Strong Looking Policeman.

"Um... hello."

"What you guys doing?"

"Mmm... we'd been in the pub and were just sitting here talking."

"We had a report of some guys here - there's been attempted break-ins here previously." Already Mr Policeman has sussed us for the wallies we are and noted no damage or break in attempts. "I'll have to ask you to come to the police station with me for a search."

OH. FUCK. I am the one with the drugs. I have about 3 spliffs worth of resin in my packet of Golden Virginia! Now I'll never get in the Foreign Office! OH WOE!

Back at the station, they line us up in a room. I'm last.

"What do you do, boys?"

"Student."

"Student."

"Student."

"Student."

"Oh right, what do you study?"

"English." Me.

"Chemistry." Stuart

"Computing." Kenneth.

Utterly deadpan, in a monotone to put Jack Dee to shame, Darren says, "Librarianship." The police crack up laughing. I still don't know if Darren was trying to be funny or just embarassed at his choice of subject, but that was comedy gold.

They frisk everyone's pockets, then come to me. I'm shitting myself. Heart palpatating, sphincter spasming, mind going "NO NO NO NO NO NO". They find my baccy. They open it up. They see the resin. They ignore it and give it back to me. And then we're free to go.
(McChinaman banned, Sun 8 May 2011, 2:02, 2 replies)

Lol. Librarianship. Classic Darren.

( Sextant goes to him is emotionally erect, on this day, Sun 8 May 2011, 12:15, closed)

lol
3 spliffs worth? Prolly coudn't be arsed to do the paperwork :P
(bottle_cap, Sun 8 May 2011, 17:36, closed)