​An Australian Creative Director and Strategist fumbles through life in America. Live from New York.

An Australian Creative Director and Strategist fumbles through life New York City.

A Less Fun (but still quite funny) Interaction with the Chinese Police.

I've had one pretty hilarious interaction with the Chinese police. Today, I had a significantly less fun (but arguably more funny) experience.

Riding along after work to the gym, I learned a valuable lesson: don't fuck with traffic cops. I was moving through a busy intersection when a policeman started pointing at me: he was standing in my way, so I continued arrogantly along. His pointing got more forceful, so I moved toward him to try and figure out what I was doing wrong. Turned out I was riding down a road that bikes weren't allowed on (a rule i had previously ignored, simply because it was annoying and made getting to the gym slower).

As I approached him, I began to dismount and ask in English what the problem was. At first, he kept pointing at me and shaking his head, as if he didn't understand me. Once again, I shrugged my shoulders and asked what the problem was. At this point, he grabbed the handle bars of my bike and smashed it to the ground, with my laptop sitting in a bag on the handlebars. I responded by screaming "What the FUCK did you do that for?"

This was poor judgement. But FUCK THAT, no need to be a huge dick. We were standing in the middle of a huge intersection...and he now suddenly began to speak perfect English.

"FUCK YOU?" he said. "You think you can FUCK ME?"

No, I said, i just wanted to know why he'd fired up and smashed my bike like a dickhole. At this point, he grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the side of the road. I didn't much care for this, but went along with it. He then started to bend over the railing on the side of the road, pointing at his arsehole and saying 'Go on. You fuck me. You fuck a Chinese policeman."

I didn't know what to say or do. I started to explain that I didn't say 'Fuck you', and that I didn't want trouble, I just didn't understand what was happening.

"Show me your passport" he yelled. I didn't have it, and no, my parents or girlfriend weren't here to get it for me (his suggestion, which was mean considering my homesickness). This worried me deeply, and I started to freak out: expats are meant to carry their passports, and there had been crackdowns in Beijing and I'd heard stories of people being detained for hours, even days.

"Well, now I fuck you!" he loudly yelled, gesturing wildly with his right hand in a motion that you wouldn't repeat in polite company. This should have been scary (no one wants to get arm raped by a tiny Chinese policeman), but instead I burst into laughter. At this point, he was pretty furious, and angrily asked if i worked for a consulate. He then accused me of being Canadian - like an actual accusation: "Where are you from...CANADA???"

No, I'm from Australia. This oddly calmed him.

He paused for a second, looked me right in the eye, and said suspiciously "Like Ian Thorpe", with a grin creeping across his face. I was somewhat stunned: from being angrily finger/fist bang raped to talking about Ian fucking Thorpe?

"Yes, like Ian Thorpe," I offered nervously. He then burst into laughter. "I'll let you off this time. Say hi to IAN for me." he said, before bursting into more laughter. He actually yelled "IAN" as if Ian Thorpe was a myth, or a fictional character of some sort. And he was PISSING himself with laughter.

I rode off with a mixture of total confusion, blinding anger and a strange sense that this was hilarious, I just didn't know it yet. It's been pretty funny writing it down. But really.