By Farzana Rahman / @bananarahmana

Last night, my sort of boyfriend was competing in an “amateur” cage-fight. It was his 6th since he took up the sport. He’s not pro, doesn’t want to become pro, but enjoys the training and the discipline that comes with cage-fighting. His day job is a Physiotherapist and Sports Masseur. I’m competing in my first cage-fight in a couple of weeks, and although I’ve been to fights before, it was a different experience to be supporting a fighter in whom you have a personal interest. Also, his trainer had put him on a sex-ban before his fight, and I wanted dick.

I haven’t been too invested in this guy, but he’s grown on me, we rarely fight, he’s very polite and respectful and KIND. So kind. Apart from when he called me a fussy shitbag for making him wait in Tesco, while I went to hunt out the Orange Juice with the bits in it. Also, he buys me Halal meat and keeps his alcohol away from my drinks when I stay over. See: kind. He won his fight pretty easy, but his face did get battered, as he was a bit too slow for my liking in blocking his opponent’s head shots and punches. So, after the fight, he pretty much looked like this:

Even with a battered face, he still fwine.

It hasn’t been easy for me navigating this new relationship, and I had even considered ending things with him, not because he’s done anything wrong. It’s just me. But he’s taking me to Istanbul for my birthday after my fight, so I’m sucking it up a bit and trying to be a bit more focussed on him. To this end, I booked us a Spa & Hotel this weekend here. I thought it would be a nice thing to do after all his intense training, and also most importantly I get dick. I didn’t use the loo last night at the venue, because I didn’t want to catch anything, like Cholera for example. The toilets were pretty skanky, so we rushed off after his fight around midnight, as I wanted to take him toTinselTown in Farringdon for big people food. (Also the best halal burgers in London).

The Mr drives a Benz, CL-class. He’s worked fucking hard for it. He also lives in deep Essex, where most people drive nice cars, because they can afford it. The fight was all in deep bumbaclaarting Essex, and stupid me insisted that we go to Tinsel Town in Central. He was tired and just wanted to go home, but because he’s a nice, kind bre; he drove us there. He’s not the type of person to blast his music loud, especially late at night, he’s always been a bit conscious of how other people may view him as a black man driving a ridiculously expensive car. He’s a good driver, by good, I mean “safe.” He doesn’t like to be a passenger in my car when I’m driving as I’m Lil Miss Illegal Left Turns, and I have a need for speed. So we were surprised when a police car flashed their light and signalled to the Mr for him to pull over near Liverpool St. Remember, I still needed the loo, it wasn’t too bad at this point, as in I didn’t think there was a risk of leaking if he drove over a bump or anything, but I was still conscious that I NEEDED the loo. We both instinctively rolled our eyes as the two coppers walked up to the car. One came around to my side, the other was on the Mr’s side. The Mr’s window was already down. The copper who was on my side looked at me, peered into the window and then looked too hard at my legs, I have him a stink look.

The copper on the Mr’s side asked him to switch off his engine, I started shaking my head and he kissed his teeth. The copper then asked the Mr to step out of the car. He looked at me and I looked at him, the Mr was wearing a hoodie as it was a BIT COLD and HELLO HIS FACE WAS FUCKING MASH UP FROM THE FIGHT.  When he stepped out of the car, the copper immediately took a step back when he realised the Mr’s face was bruised and cut. Before the Mr could explain, the copper put his hand up, signalling he needed to shut up. The copper signalled to the one on my side, who started to walk around the car and got out his little torch thing and I could see him bend down and look hard at the number plate. The following is what happened next:

Copper: “Is this your vehicle Sir?”

Mr: “Yes.”

Copper: “Where are you going?”

Mr to me: “Babes, where we going again?”

Me: “Farringdon.”

Copper to the Mr: “So you’re driving, but you don’t know where you’re going.”

Mr: “I don’t know where this place is, my girlfriend was directing me.”

At this point, the Copper wrote something down.

I looked at the Mr, he knew I was losing patience.

Mr: “Look, I’m not being funny, but my girlfriend really needs to use the bathroom, can you tell me why you’ve stopped me please?”

Both coppers ignored this question. The copper who was looking for fuck knows what on the body of the car, called his colleague over, they conferred. The Mr mouthed “Are you ok?” to me. I looked at him and felt bad for him, this was all because I insisted like a fucking brat that we go to Farringdon. I wanted to touch his hand and say I was sorry for this, but both coppers came back at this point.

“Can you explain why your face appears to be so beaten Sir?”

The Mr gritted his teeth at this, it was a half sneering question: “appear to be so beaten Sir.”

He explained that he had been competing earlier in a cage fight. Both coppers rolled their eyes at this, the one who had been checking out my legs earlier, then started looking at the Mr and me in an odd way. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I didn’t appreciate him looking at me up and down or what he could have possibly been thinking. Other people were driving past slowly now, I remember in one car was a group of young black girls, looking like they were going raving. They shouted at the coppers “Fucking pigs.” I was beginning to do the “Ho.Ly. Fuck, I need a toilet NOW dance. The Mr kept looking over at me and now the pride in his shoulders after he had won his fight had now deflated to resignation and humiliation. The copper asked the Mr to open his boot. I looked at the copper and asked him why. The copper then said “Routine check Madam.” I had to walk away before I lost my shit. The Mr’s face was stone by this point, he opened his boot and stood back. In the boot of his car was all his kit from the fight, he had some weights in there and 3 tubs of his LA Muscle LA Whey Protein Powder. (He’s lactose intolerant, and this is one of the few protein powders that is lactose free).     These tubs cost nearly £100 each.

“What’s in the tubs Sir?” The Copper asked the Mr.
We both looked at each now incredulous with rage, both he and I knew what the coppers were getting at. Black man driving a nice top of the range car, with a fit Missus in a short skirt and tubs of powdered substance in his boot. COME THE FUCK ON.

Mr: “It’s protein powder, I told you before, I’m a Cage Fighter, I need it for training.”

The Copper asked the Mr to open a tub, he sniffed it (Cappuccino flavour), he then stuck his fucking dirty finger in the tub and tasted it. He looked at the Mr hard in his face. The other dirty-minded one looked at me. They moved away again and started to confer. They came back to the boot and picked up all 3 tubs, they removed them and placed them in their car.  They took the Mr to their car and spoke to him, I don’t know what they said and he won’t tell me. He didn’t get his tubs of LA Whey back. They drove off, 45 mins after first stopping us. As they drove off, the copper with the legs fetish looked at me and bit his lip.

Just another night in London for a black couple.

According to the gov.uk website, the Police can stop you at any time: https://www.gov.uk/police-powers-to-stop-and-search-your-rights

Last year, the Guardian reported that Police forces were likely to use stop and search powers on black people 28 times MORE than white people with the MET being the heaviest user.

Ps, we didn’t make it to Tinsel Town after that, but I still needed the loo, he drove to his sister’s place in Bow and I burst in, to the downstairs loo to piss for England. It was only when I looked at the loo roll holder, I saw that there was no fucking toilet roll, I wanted to cry. I text the Mr from the loo saying “No loo roll, bring me some!” He knocked on the door and handed me the loo roll. See: a kind man.

Originally posted at Bananas are not the only fruit