Busted

In Melbourne this morning, I crossed Spencer Street against the lights, on foot (of course). There was a break in traffic and I went half-way across, as one does, and waited for another break in traffic to go all the way across. I was thinking at the time how very Melbourne-y it all was; trams, slate-grey sky, a bit of wind and rain, agreeably chilly and whatnot. The light changed, I continued crossing the road.

As I got to the other side a policeman approached me with an 'excuse me'. I wasn't anxious or upset, I quite welcomed the interruption. The last encounter I'd had with cops had been at a very convivial barbeque where there was a lot of discussion about various LACs and PQDs (or PDQ? Pretty Damn Quick?).

He said that I'd crossed against the lights, but that it was good that I hadn't in fact crossed all the way, and that I'd waited for the lights to continue my crossing (which was only because there were cars galore). I tried to look contrite. He told me I'd get away with a warning, and that I should watch out if I'm in the city around Grand Prix time, as they were planning on having a blitz on jaywalking. He was friendly, almost apologetic so I tried to make it as easy for both of us as possible. He then asked for my name and address (maybe he was a bit like the cops at Tony's bbq after all? I can never tell) which I gave, and while it ocurred to me at the time that I could just make up something "John W Howard, Wollstoncraft"). I was also wondering whether I really did have to give my details at all but I figured I wasn't really in a position to make a big deal of it, and he was quite polite about the whole thing.