Written by Anonymous. Posted in United Kingdom

I know this isn’t a town in anyway shape or form, but “it” is still an excellent place for the spotting of chavs. It’s a kind of magical place where the chavs look just like chavs, but they act differently. They don’t go around in groups, nobody is intimidated by them; and although they do occasionally try to intimidate people they rarely try for long. In fact it’s safe to say that in this magical world the chavs are more often than not the intimidated ones.

This place, I’m sure it was obvious, is the custody suite at any Metropolitan police station (I won’t comment on those stations outside the Met’s area, but I believe it’s all much of a muchness).

The custody suite is where chavs are taken following their arrest for trying, and failing, to scare some innocent bus driver, or perhaps after a land demarcation dispute between two rival gangs, also known as a fight in McDonalds.

As I said before the chav acts very differently. First, they don’t hang about in groups. No, here you will find your chav in his very own private (except for the video camera) room complete with en-suite facilities (well a hole to s**t in anyway). Secondly, it’s not uncommon for the chav to be seen wearing a white paper suit, this is not because he has been accused of some horrific sex crime but because the police are required to remove anything that could be used by the chav to harm himself. This includes the string inside tracksuit bottoms that holds them up. Therefore, the chav is given a rather amusing choice of either cutting his tracksuit up to remove the string or wear the paper suit! Thirdly, they don’t intimidate people. This is mostly because the policemen are much bigger than the chav and because the police occasionally like to crowd around a subject to make sure he feels particularly vulnerable. Also, the chav will often have been reduced to tears after their hardman antics have failed to scare anyone. The tears are often made worse when the officers inform the chav that his parents will be called to attend the police station (obviously I’m talking about the middleclass chavs here that live around Hornchurch, not the real scummy ones you’ll find in Hackney).

The chav will often attempt to assert themselves with the officers by insulting them or arguing. This is a very short lived tactic as the chav quickly learns that the police are never scared by this. Their final recourse, having no one else to abuse, is to try and abuse their poor solicitor. This never works when I’m there. I’m 6’ tall, 16 stones and look exactly like a policeman – everyone from crooks to police officers to judges have mistaken me for a copper – therefore our dear little chavster is reduced to realising that he’s an insignificant and very cowardly waste of space and will leave the police station promising to be good in future. They, of course, are never good in future because they now need to prove to their friends that they are not the pussies they appeared to be when arrested and so must now act ultra-chavvy and the process begins again.

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