Butchers Creek

 The Baby Faced Cop.

 You can read all about it my book just out.  Story number 10 tells of my run in with a young cop who picked me up for an expired warrant of fitness on the car trailer.

I had just delivered a consignment to the railhead and was travelling back home listening to a tune on the car radio.  Show me the way to go home was playing.  I knew the way home, but it was the Irish tenor that captured my emotions, for some reason.

I glanced in the rear vision mirror, only to see a cop on a motorbike looking at the number plate on the back of the trailer.  He pulled alongside on his BMW R1200RT-P waving his white glove indicating that I should pull over.  I swear to God this little squirt was no older than 16 years old.  He sported a fluff to his top lip that was in the early stages of development.

He had the audacity to suggest my warrant of  fitness was not in view and did I have one?  Of course I had one, to show him I rubbed the mud off the plastic holder with the sleeve of my near new jersey.  He still could not see it properly, was I telling the truth?  Look, I'll show you I said rushing to car for a screwdriver.  No--No.  I believe you he said.  No stuff it, I'll show you.  Screwing off the plastic cover off the warrant which fell in three pieces.  The warrant indicated April.  What month is it sir, asked the cop.  What month indeed, why, this morning when I left home it was July.

You'll just have to read the story.

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