Coppers Make Me Nervous

I got a letter pushed through the door last week from the police. It asked "Sir/Madam" to contact them on the below number as there was something they wanted to talk to me about. Now I didn't really worry too much due only to the fact that it was addressed to generic house owner and not me specifically. If it had been addressed to me then I would have started doing that auto brain scan thing you do when you think you may be in trouble. What the fuck have I done and more importantly how am I going to wiggle out of this one? I called the number on the letter the next day. I was told that the two detectives that wanted to speak to me weren't at the station right now and could I leave my full name, address, phone number and date of birth with them and they would call me back when they could. My date of birth? Why? Are you at all interested in the colour of my underpants perhaps? White before you ask. My socks? Of course. They are black, and I once watched a midget porn show in Bangkok and was mildly repulsed by the whole thing but that was years ago now and surely you will take my inebriation at the time into consideration detective?

If someone asks me unnecessary questions the usual response would be short sharp answers delivered with the straightest of faces and with an icy undertone. And an overtone if I'm really angry. Not so with the police though, no need to get on the bad side with the coppers. Especially when they already want to come to my house in the first place. They didn't call back that day and as I have had an old friend over from Sweden recently I just forgot about it. Two days ago found me sitting in the pub with my friend when my phone rang. It was the police and could they come round to my house tomorrow night at 8 to talk. No problem, see you then. My friend and I then decided to have a ban on smoking anything dodgy after 4pm that day and clear all potentially incriminating evidence. We would open the windows from 4 as well. It is fucking freezing but cold and at home is preferable to warm and in prison.
We did our stuff the next day. Both of us scanned the shit out of the flat at 4 and by 4:45 we were both happy that we were now completely sanitized although we were sundered with several layers of extra clothing. Imagine our surprise when we got a knock on the door at 5:30. It was one of those knocks that only policeman use. 4 short sharp raps. My friend looks at me with an incredibly guilty look on his face and whispers "Fuck, it's them!". He knew it was them and so did I. I got up and had a last glance across the room as I walked to the door repeating "It's cool, it's cool, it's cool" to myself. I opened the door and there was a him and a her. She flashed her badge and he instantly told me that he was sorry he was early but he had just had to change the wheel on his car and could he come in and wash his hands. He pushed past me into the house. Brilliant.

She came into the front room and told me she wanted to show me a photofit of a man they think is local and had been committing all kinds of naughtiness. She showed me a picture of a black man in a balaclava. All I could see were his eyes. I laughed and told her that she would have to give me a little more as staring into random mens eyes on the street wasn't really my kind of thing. As I was handing the photofit back to her Mr.Policeman came out of the bathroom and asked me to sign a sheet saying "Yes I have seen the picture of a black mans eyes and no I didn't recognise them". I was smoking a cigarette and went to place it in the ashtray and his eyes followed my hand down and that was when we both saw it. At the same time. A half smoked joint just sitting there looking up and smiling at both of us. I could not fucking believe it. I had cleared under the fucking sofa and hidden my hash box so totally that a psychic would have had a job finding it. I had even emptied my drawers in my room of anything naughty. All that and we had both completely forgotten to clean the fucking ashtray, and here we were with far too many clothes and windows wide fucking open in January. Then he looked at me and we locked eyes. I had an easy smile on my face as if to say "So what, it's only a joint". He then started looking around my place as Ms.Policewoman was talking to my friend.

A few more nonsensical pleasantries were exchanged between them and I am just thinking what a fucking stupid stupid cunt I am. Fucking busted because I didn't empty the ashtray. We had been so concerned with all the secret little places that we forgot the most obvious.

Mr.Policeman finishes his hungry eyed search across my room, looked back to me and smiled and this is what I heard ringing in my ears

"You are fucking nicked my son. What else you got in this place? I'm going to do a full search."

What he actually said

"Thanks very much for your time. We'd better get going now"

I couldn't believe it when I realised he was going to leave it there. As soon as he left I showed my friend the ashtray and we both laughed and then I sparked it up.