A foaming at the mouth Karen thinks that I am just a stupid mall cop.

When I tell her to stop, she keeps acting like I'm just security.

But then I reveal that I am a real police officer.

And that changes everything.

Here's what happened.

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No lady, I am not a mall cop.

I am an actual cop.

In a former life a few years ago now, I was a police officer here in Good Old England.

I moved from a team dealing with action pack 999 calls, speeding around and old Ford focuses,

and dealing with interesting things to working in a team that supported a large shopping complex.

Shoplifting, anti-social behavior, real hard-hitting stuff.

The uniform was a white shirt black tie and if I was out and about a stab vest over the top,

with one of the big pointy hats too.

If I was on break though, I just put on my normal jacket to cover my shoulder numbers.

This was mainly for personal security, so to a casual observer,

I was just a bloke in a white shirt with a black tie.

Cue the moment.

I just finished dealing with the paperwork from a shoplifting incident and had a hand cream for a sandwich.

I locked my vest and had a way but left my belt of tools.

Can of spray, cuffs, and a metal stick.

England again.

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