I don't get it

I think I like one or two other people in this wonderful job I didn't have a relaxing weekend at home this past weekend.

I don't know, I really don't have words to describe just how pathetic people get once they've had a few too many drinks.

Since joining this job, I've found I can't go out to town with my wife. I can't relax. I find myself looking at every bunch of teenaged or twentysomething lads (and girls) and identifying troublemakers. In Urbantown centre, it feels like they're round every corner, just waiting for you to look at their girlfriend or pint in the wrong way, itching for an excuse to macho it up for their mates.

Am I getting too old? Wasn't that long ago (I keep telling myself) that I thought going out to town and having several shandies was a great thing to do, and how traffic cones really were hilarious when you wear them and how grand a 3am kebab tastes. (Although I might add I never got into any fights.)

But now I just look at them and think they're pathetic, drunkenly trying to eat sausage and chips out of a yellow plastic carton, chewing like a 3 year old dropping half chewed chip down their ted baker shirts.

Sat in a carrier outside one nightclub. On one side, three chavs have had a barney with three squaddies dressed as schoolgirls. Half my crew are out shoving them away from each other with bored, fed up expressions. There's no point arresting them. The nearest cell space is miles away, we're only one of two carriers in Urbantown tonight and we need to stay available in case something really goes wrong. I've made the mistake of keeping a window open and I am enduring a completely nonsensical diatribe from some bladdered girl, who looks quite disgusted at my lack of reaction beyond nodding and saying yes (I honestly have no idea what she was talking about though) and stumbles off, before taking 5 minutes to negotiate her way over a pedestrian barrier.

We just watch, not even finding it funny.

The ambulances have it even worse. Some point around midnight we overhear that there's none left, we need to wait for one to finish dealing with their current job before one can get assigned.

I nearly lose my rag with some idiot just about capable of standing upright who has been chucked out of a bar, and calls 999 for us to get him back in to get his girlfriend (who is still having a fine time with her own friends). He makes a big display of writing my collar number and van registration onto his phone after I tell him "er, how about No". I'm not worried, I'll be astonished if he managed to write it right, apart from the fact I really don't have anything to worry about with regard to our service to this particular "customer". I do however resist the temptation to take his phone and drop kick it down the high street. Idiots like him taking up time on the 999 system could mean a delay for someone who really needs it.

A suitable collection of Friday Night Highlights here, courtesy ExtraSpecial (may his blog gather dust in peace) who originally posted it.