Policing London during these troubled political times can be a pretty tough and dangerous business for the hardworking bobby on the street and I’m no exception.
Last Thursday evening, for example, I was sent with a number of my colleagues to Downing Street, the home of the Prime Minister, where an angry mob of protestors had gathered to protest at a proposed new law, banning Muslims from America.
As soon as we arrived it was pretty apparent that things could turn very ugly. There were people the length of Whitehall holding banners carrying pictures of Mr Trump with some pretty unpleasant slogans painted on them.
There was no unrest at this point, just the odd anti-Trump chant from time to time, but my copper’s instincts told me that serious disorder wasn’t far away and that innocent members of the public could be at risk of injury or even worse.
Realising that I had to act fast, I slipped into The Wig and Pen public house and drank at the bar until I wet myself.
After a few more pints, I was sick in the toilets and finally passed out in one of the traps.
I spent the night on the floor in there until I was eventually thrown out by the landlady at around 9.00am the next morning when she came in to do the cleaning.
I then went home to sleep it off, safe in the knowledge that I’d done my bit to keep London and Londoners safe from harm.
PC Ted is the vice-chairman of The Semi-Comatose Lawman’s Society of Great Britain