Ping

So you decide you'll go out for a bit of a dance, and you drop a pinger and wait because you want the ride at home, with all the hot, sweaty, eye-quivering silliness and stupid banter that entails. You wait and you wait and after an hour and a half you realise that these are duds and nothing's going to happen. So you get ready and head out into the night, and as you walk up the road, that's when the little bastard starts to kick in. Great, going to be peaking in a damn cab. You call into the BP first to get some money out and brilliant - inside, the white light is blinding and there are a couple of the most terrifyingly enormous cops you've ever seen in your entire life hanging around waiting for coffee or food or something. They look at you as you enter. Just act natural, you think feverishly as you ramp up the naturalness. Also, you tell yourself, for god's sake don't look at them. But don't avoid eye contact either. And keep talking but make it normal talking, like you haven't even noticed that there are gigantic cops who could bend you in half just two feet away from you. And don't talk fast and don't laugh because you just thought of the donut obsessed cop from The Simpsons but don't act shifty either and don't bump into anything and don't draw attention to yourself and especially don't draw attention to yourself by trying not to draw attention to yourself because they are right onto that sort of thing it's like they've got a sixth sense in situations like this...

Apparently that sort of thing happens to some people.