WELL Citizen, it seems you've figured me out. I seem to fit neatly into the category where you have placed me. I am stereotyped, standardised, characterised, classified, grouped and always typical. Unfortunately, I can never figure you out . . .

From birth, you teach your children that I am the bogeyman but are shocked when they identify with my traditional enemy the criminal and wonder why your lost toddler is too scared to approach me for help.

You accuse me of coddling criminals, until it's your children I catch doing wrong.

You may take an hour for lunch and have several tea breaks during the working day, but point at me as a loafer if I have one cup during my 10-hour shift.

You pride yourself on your manners, but think nothing of disturbing my meals with your troubles.

You raise hell with the guy who cuts you up in traffic, but if I catch you doing the same thing I'm picking on you. You know all of the traffic laws but you have never received a ticket you deserved.

You cry 'foul' if you see me driving fast but raise the roof when I take more than 10 seconds to respond to your call.

You call it part of my job if someone strikes me, but call it police brutality if I strike back.

You have no use for me at all, but of course it's all right if I change a flat tyre for your wife, deliver your child in the back of a patrol car or perhaps save your son's life with CPR or work countless hours looking for your runaway daughter.

So, Citizen, you can stand on your soapbox and rant and rave about the way I do my work, calling me every name in the book, but never stop to think that your property, family or even your life depends on me or one of my colleagues.

Yes, Citizen, it's me, your local bobby.

Serving police officer (name and address supplied).