Tom Shields on the polis

There is concern that Scottish police are getting too heavily into private enterprise. The Lothians and Borders force is to the fore in this respect, having raised its extra-curricular income to £5.5 million in 2007-8 compared to a mere £140,000 in 2003-4. The revenue is raised from sub-contracting officers and equipment to police shopping centres, festivals and film production as well as the traditional role at sporting events.

The fear is that while Lothians' finest are out helping to film the latest Rebus, real criminals are going unapprehended. While officers are patrolling the shopping mall, vital forms regarding statistics and targets remain unfilled back at the station.

As a concerned citizen and a part-time social commentator, I should be worried, furious even, about this state of affairs. Actually, my first thought is: please, can I have one of those rent-a-cops?

I quite fancy having my own person in blue on duty outside the portals of Buffer Towers. There would be none of that saluting stuff or even body searches of visitors.

But it would be nice if the bobby might have a word with the pupils from the Potted Heid High School up the road about their annoying habit of depositing their crisp pokes on the Buffer lawn and lobbing their empty Irn-Bru containers into the lobelia.

Just as hard-pressed parents can hire a nanny or a lady who does to make life a little easier, families who can afford it may consider engaging the services of a police-person for a few hours a day to help cope with the wee ones.

"Now, settle down, children. This is PC Murdoch, who has come to visit. Mummy had hoped that PC Murdoch might teach you to behave by giving you a clip round the ear or even a right good leathering.

"But apparently this is not allowed under the Bringing Up Little Monsters (Scotland) Act of 2002. If you misbehave, the nice policeman will handcuff you to the bannister at the Naughty Step.

"If you are really bad, you will be sent to the Thinking Room. Or as PC Murdoch calls it, a visit to the cells for a wee lie-in.

"Mummy has to tell you that anything you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you."

Even when there are no crime-and-punishment issues, there would be the social cachet of simply having your own polis about.

You could take your own constable to the football match. He could have a quiet word with that bloke who sits behind you and is always effin' and blindin' and generally ruining the spectacle with his unreasonable behaviour.

If you are going out for a night on the town, your personal police escort would come in more than handy.

If you really want to go into one of those premises which have bouncers at the door, let your friendly cop do the talking.

He can discuss with the surly doorman whether, in fact, you've had too much to drink. Whether you are too bald or too grey-haired to be allowed in. Whether your fashion sense is right for the occasion.

Why stop at hiring just a police-person for your pub crawl? Check with your local council too see if any of their staff can be contracted out.

Given last week's news that a survey showed 46% of pubs were giving customers short measures, you may want to take along a trading standards officer.

If you are worried that you are not getting enough drink, you may be able to engage the services of a council social worker, on a secondment basis, to discuss your relationship with alcohol.

Meanwhile, back on your night out with the polis, if you have the cash, it might be worth considering upgrading from a beat bobby to something more impressive. Perhaps a sergeant or even an inspector. While you are at it, you could hire a police traffic car to get you about. Or even one of those big patrol vans, if you are team-handed.

Go on and spoil yourself with the addition of a couple of motorcycle outriders, your very own Rikki Fulton Supercops.

If you are going walkabout in one of Scotland's many rough-and-ready nightlife zones, it may be advisable to hire an alsatian from the dog division, preferably with handler.

The more upmarket may splash out on the lease of a mounted police-person to marshal their progress through the city streets. If it is a lady mounted police-person, you might ask: "Hen, do you know your horse is sweating?" To which she will reply: "So you would you be if you had been between my legs for two hours," before arresting you for sexual harassment and perpetrating old jokes.

The polis seem to be up for entering the era of a mixed economy. But it would not be cheap hiring these police resources.

Exactly how expensive, I cannot tell you. I did ask Strathclyde Police how much it might cost to hire the various ranks. They said I should go away and pursue these details under Freedom of Information.

This struck me as a waste of time and money since loads of civil servants would be needed to get me an answer. Presumably Strathclyde polis know how much they charge per hour for a constable or a police dog but they are not saying.

This maintains the honourable tradition of telling the press hee-haw.

Well, would you speak to a journalist if you didn't have to?

In my brief career as a reporter, I occasionally had to phone the police late of an evening for information about a murder or other item of public interest.

Often, the official response was: "We can confirm that an incident has occurred. A statement will be issued later."

This left the difficult decision of whether to stop the presses, hold the front page, and write the breathless headline: "Police confirm incident has occurred. Statement later."

I am sure the polis will be charging a right few quid for private use of their facilities, and rightly so.

One day - if I win the lottery or get a job in a bank that pays handsome bonuses, or get elected as an MP with the accompanying expenses - I will hire a police-person.

It will be no ordinary cop. It will be an officer wearing a large quantity of scrambled egg.

He will accompany me to a friend's house for a dinner engagement. I will say to my hosts: "This is the chief constable. He is my driver and bodyguard for the evening. Don't worry about him. He'll be fine in the kitchen. He's got a lot of paperwork to catch up on."