In Japan the police are your friends

Last night one of my coworkers friends was in town, visiting from England, so we all went out for drinks at an izakaya after work. Nice place, a couple blocks from the apartment called Haikali Dori. A little expensive, but they have a bottle keep system that makes it quite economical for drinking. Fo about ¥1000 you can buy a bottle of liquor and put your name on it, and they keep it on the shelf for you to use wheneve you come. Quite a few people came out, including one of our neighbors, a cameraman for the local TV station, KRY TV. The food was good and the company was entertaining, but I had to excuse myself early (about 2:00) because I had work the next morning. I found out later that the core of the group stayed out until six, going to karaoke, etc., so I'm glad I left when I did.
I found myself biking home alone, in the dark, and, of course, I soon got lost. I asked a taxi driver which way the 190 (one of the two local highways) was, and he pointed. But, after a few mintes of cycling I found myself still lost, and I pulled into a 7-11 and asked the clerk, he helped some, and one of the customers stepped in and drew a small, and frankly quite useless map.When it became clear that he was being of little help to me he decided to follow me outside and walk with me. He was in his mid-twenties, wearing a shiny red track suit, and, I think a visor. In the short conversation we had, he told me he was an iindependent fashion designer and travelled to Korea, Hong Kong, etc. However, instead of taking me to the highway, as I had hoped, he walked me and my bike to the local koban, or police box/mini-station. Inside he helped explain the situation to the four officers there, who all clustered around up to the counter to see what was up. I added that I was lost (in Japanese) to which one officer replied, "I'm lost", he may have been correcting my pronunciation, or makiing a joke, but either way I was confused. I wrote down my address for the officers and three of them came outside with me, the man in the track suit left, saying (in Japanese) not to worry, and that Japanese police were kind. Nice of him to say so, but not really necessary. The polic then held my bike and parked it by the police station, because I had been drinking, saying I could get it tomorrow. Oddly, they didn't check the registration. Then three of them hopped in a police car with me and gave me a ride home, taking my phone number on the way and made some general small talk. I told them that I had left my passport in my apartment, and could go get it, but they shrugged it off. They dropped me off at my door and told me to have a good night. Not an unpleasant experience, but, still an inconvenience; I had to spend a bunch of money on a taxi to work today, and tomorrow I need to go find my bike.
I got home around 2:30, went to bed, woke up at eight and hopped in the shower, only to realize once I was wet and soapy, that I had work at 11:40, not ten. Thus, I went back to sleep and went to work later with crazy bed hair and a wicked hangover. I've gotta learn my way around town.