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Old 05-29-2007   #1 (permalink)
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Cycling home

One night, many years ago, I was drinking in Sheffield University's Bar 1 when one of the door staff appeared at my side and invited me upstairs to talk to the police. The police turned out to be in an odd mood, they wanted me to prove that I was me, and to provide references, the door porter alone apparently didn't convince them. Eventually tiring of this fruitless exercise, they explained that they had found a body washed up in Whitby and they suspected the body was mine. I've never thought too much about this incident, beyond the question as to why in a country of 60 million the police would've thought of me, particularly as I've never been to Whitby, but on the way home tonight it occured to me that they probably thought that I'd done away with myself and stolen my identity. I never heard from them again, concerning this matter, so I guess they had insufficient grounds to make a case. Still, I have to wonder if I'm still a suspect, and even worse, what if they were right?
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Old 05-29-2007   #2 (permalink)
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Re: Cycling home

that is so odd


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Old 05-29-2007   #3 (permalink)
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Re: Cycling home

I suppose you could count yourself lucky that there were no anal probes involved.

Could one call a metro cop an alien? Maybe in the States.
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Old 05-29-2007   #4 (permalink)
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Re: Cycling home

Quote:
Originally Posted by ughaibu View Post
One night, many years ago, I was drinking in Sheffield University's Bar 1 when one of the door staff appeared at my side and invited me upstairs to talk to the police. The police turned out to be in an odd mood, they wanted me to prove that I was me, and to provide references, the door porter alone apparently didn't convince them. Eventually tiring of this fruitless exercise, they explained that they had found a body washed up in Whitby and they suspected the body was mine. I've never thought too much about this incident, beyond the question as to why in a country of 60 million the police would've thought of me, particularly as I've never been to Whitby, but on the way home tonight it occured to me that they probably thought that I'd done away with myself and stolen my identity. I never heard from them again, concerning this matter, so I guess they had insufficient grounds to make a case.
With names like Sheffield, and Whitby, I'm assuming this happened in England.
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Originally Posted by ughaibu View Post
Still, I have to wonder if I'm still a suspect, and even worse, what if they were right?
It depends, if the case is still open, what's the statute of limitations for murder/suicide, in England?
IF..... you were guilty.......you might still be in prision
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One night, many years ago
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Old 06-02-2007   #5 (permalink)
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Re: Cycling home

Cycling home is a great way to let the mind wander loose among it's thoughts. On the night in question, I was cycling along the river bank, a place without artificial lighting and there was an overcast sky. I could see ahead of me a shadow, which turned out to be another cyclist, and just as I was about to overtake him he suddenly veered right. Had I been a couple of metres further forward this would've sent me down the bank into the river, so, as I continued I naturally wondered why he had swerved. I decided that he'd probably been surprised by an insect and this reminded me of another occasion when I was cycling home.
I'd been visiting my sister in hospital and was going through Old Isleworth when I noticed a woman looking, in a peculiar manner, into the street. Following her gaze I saw that there was an enormous cloud of mosquitoes over the street, and on the side that I was on, so I put my head down and charged through. It was when I felt how heavy the impacts were that I realised I was cycling through a swarm of bees. As it goes, since being stung as a small child, I've never been fully comfortable with stinging insects, so I was pretty uncomfortable when I realised what was going on. At the time I had very long hair and I could imagine the queen getting caught in my hair and the rest of the swarm chasing me in fury down the street. Then, about two hundred metres beyond where I'd encountered the swarm, a bee emerged from the sleeve of my shirt and I started imagining my shirt, which was billowing out in the wind, being full of bees and that when I stopped cycling the shirt with all it's bees would collapse onto my back.
It was a strange affair, I dont think I've ever met anyone else who has cycled through a swarm of bees, and that got me thinking, I dont think I've ever met anyone else who has had trouble convincing the police that they're not a corpse washed up in a town they've never been to.
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