This is not a story about a recovery, but one of a similar nature about an incident that took place on the 1st night of a 18 month detachment to a European capital.There we all were, about 8 engineers, enjoying the delights of xxxxxx's famed ********** *****. In one particular bar (********* ****) there was a 'lady' who was not. One of our number, having had a few too many, insulted the 'lady' with some choice words. The management of the bar, in wrongly thinking we were British Squaddies, decided to call the British Military Police. When they arrived they started giving us all the usual bull*hit. The shortest member of our group walks up to the MP doing all of the talking and stabs him in the chest repeatedly with his index finger saying "listen mate, we are not military so you have no power over us. In fact, as a British taxpayer I think I pay your f*ing wages, so why dont you lot just f*ck off"
With this, the MP decides he is going to press charges on our friend for 'assault' and demands the civil police be brought in. Whilst waiting for the civil police, we decide to chance our arm and leave. Once on the street the MP's chased us and herded us into the nearest bus shelter. Local police duly arrived all tooled up en mass for a riot only to find 8 forlorn individuals sitting in a bus shelter surrounded by MP's. Local sergeant begins his investigation, and starts taking names. He told the MP's to move away while he spoke to us. Once out of earshot of the MP he tells us "Dont worry lads, these Military guys are all w*nkers. As soon as I get to the station this list of your names will go in the bin."
The whole scene then broke up, the MP's drove off in Land Rover, local police cleared off, and we weighed up our options. Final decision was to get in the nearest taxi back to the hotel. We were convinced that the dissatisfied MP's would be waiting 'around the corner' armed with batons etc.
The funniest thing about the night was the thoughts going through my mind whilst in the bus shelter waiting. I was convinced that at some point I would see the inside of a police cell and probably miss my first day at work. This would probably lead to being sent back to the UK. No real problem there with work, I would have so much street cred with my workmates and would go down in company folklore as some sort of super hero. But, how was I going to explain to my wife back home that I had been arrested outside the equivalent of a brothel?
Now the test for you guys..... who can fill in the x's and tell me the name of the city, the area and name of the bar?