Whatcha Gonna Do? My Run-Ins with American Police

Dad and I watched our TV horrified as the SUV was chased mercilessly through packed streets by police, swiping other cars and narrowly missing pedestrians. Finally, it had its tyres shot out, and it came to rest surrounded by 6 cops with guns drawn. As the guy surrendered and put his hands up out the open driver’s-side window, he was grabbed buy the police and dragged head-first out the window, face-planting the highway. “This crim thought he could get away with it,” the voiceover man said in his most badass tone. “He didn’t count on the dedication of the City’s police force.”
“Bloody hell,” exclaimed my Dad, as the “Bad Boys Bad Boys” music started. “When you go to the US, do not mess with the police. These guys are not messing around.”

But as is often the case with the USA, my expectations were opposed by my experiences. As it turned out, the police were pretty bloody nice!