Ending a weekend in the cells

After a pleasurable X -Factor party at Jamie and Keiko's where the hosts and guests (including ourselves) sought to encourage mirth among the rest by coming up with flip remarks about the whole show, followed by a double-screening of new to BBC3 American Dad, Altaa and I departed, having missed the worst of the rain. We pitched up at West Kensington tube station, which I think has quite a suburban feel, despite being in central London, as evinced by the Fort Knox-security to get to Jamie and Keiko's apartment. Outside the barriers were three police vans, which suggested a high-end operation in the vicinity - I didn't think it would actually be on the platform itself.
A drug dealer and his moll were surrounded by five coppers, whilst a further one looked on, noting down details in a bookpad. They retrieved from a rucksack two whiskey bottles of the Jack Daniels variety, from which one could infer that the warning to drink responsibly would have been ignored. Below where the amber liquid had been, one police officer put on a glove to take out some rather crumpled pieces of tin foil - one passenger safely on the other side of the rails (next to us, no less) was giving a running commentary to his girlfriend and with theatrical rhetoric he announced "crack cocaine!" With the woman taken away and the junkie's jacket searched, Mr Smack somewhat incongruously asked to go home to West Brompton, to which the response of the boys in blue was "you're going nowhere." Ba-boom, tssh - he walked straight into that one.
If anyone is into crack cocaine in West Brompton, London, you now know why the price has risen, as one of the supply sources has been interdicted for some months/years. Please don't rob any extra homes before Christmas though - the best present for yourself would be to get some professional help.