Once, I met a policeman.
I didn't know he was a policeman, only that it was late and I had missed my tube home after a photo session with my gay best friend in Kilburn, and was now stuck waiting for the night bus in King's Cross the wrong side of midnight on a Monday morning.
I was so frustrated, I had tears of rage in my eyes.

The guy at the bus stop asked me: "Are you alright?" or something, and we got chatting.
Actually, I must have been really difficult to talk to at first, I was that annoyed.
He then offered to drive me home to the arse end of the Northern Line after we picked up his car in Finchley.
I really appreciated that.
Also by now I knew he was a policeman. (not a good reason to get in the car with a stranger, I know...)
At first, he asked me: "So, what do you think I do?" I thought of three options: doctor, lawyer or newsagent. All wrong (well, predjudices usually are): he worked for the London Met.

In any case, I gave him my number and a few days later he asked me out to an Alexander O'Neill concert in St Albans, where he lived.
He was totally not my type, but I thought: why not, thinking I might enjoy the music and his company.

He picked me up at home and we drove to his house where he put on MTV on the 1998 version of the plasma flat screen tv and prepared a lovely home-cooked meal.

I needed the loo and discovered that his toilet didn't have a door yet- not very comfortable, but he stayed downstairs.
Then we drove to the concert.
The music and atmosphere were great but I now knew I didn't fancy him at all (although he was such a nice guy).
For starters, he was in his thirties and I was barely out of my teens.
Then he pulled that thing where he said he was too tired to drive, and would I stay at his house?
He had a spare bedroom and all...
I began to feel very uncomfortable and said no, I preferred waking up in my own bed (and not miles away in St Albans).
He had promised me some music tapes, so he used that as an excuse to drive us back to his house.

I refused to get out of the car- no way was I spending the night with a strange policeman in a house without a toilet door!

He went inside to rummage about for the tapes, but couldn't find them- gotcha!

Then, he reluctantly drove me home.
I never saw him again.