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Wednesday, November 19, 2008

They say the uniform makes the man...I say it should make my lunch.

I was in class with about twenty five other cadets, all from outlying agencies within the metroplex. I had two agencies sponsoring me; one south of Dallas and the other an even smaller department northeast of Dallas. Both of which were non-paid positions but good experience while in the academy. Plus I had a uniform.

Don't let anyone ever tell you anything different; there is something about a police officer in uniform that does something to a certain type of female. I don't know why...the gun, the handcuffs, the big black baton? (I just made myself queasy.)

All I know is I got hit on more as a police officer than I ever did as a bartender. If I had wanted I could have gotten more action than Jodie Foster's knuckles. It was ridiculous.

Think Sean Penn-1988-Colors.

I, however, had my eye on a larger prize.

The District Attorney's office for Dallas County sits like a monolith in the shade of Dealey Plaza, across Stemmons freeway and the underpass that was the last thing to register in John F. Kennedy's brain besides a high powered bullet.

An Investigator for the D.A.'s office. Nice ring to it. Plus I looked better in a suit and being around attorney's put me around a better class of criminal than being on the street. (John Wiley Price notwithstanding.)

My cousins' husband had a connection. One that garnered me a letter of recommendation into the intern investigator's program from Henry Wade. Yeah, that Henry Wade.

Roe Versus Wade. That guy. Recommended me. I know. I shake my head too.

But it got me the job, while I held onto the part time position at the small town south of Dallas, working in uniform, writing traffic tickets. Until I stopped the Mayor's wife.

She had been doing about seventy in a fifty-five. I had planned on writing her a warning. Until she asked me if I knew who she was. And she told me.

I was not impressed and began writing the ticket after securing her license and insurance.

"I thought you officers didn't give pretty women tickets?"

"We don't. Sign here."

My Chief was waiting for me when I pulled into the station. Like I didn't see that coming.


Anonymous said...

I laughed some big fucking laughs on that "we don't. sign here." line. Why the fuck

-Ross from Maggianos

Anonymous said...

I laughed some big fucking laughs on that "we don't. sign here." line. This is me visiting your blog, salad tosser.

-Ross from Maggianos

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...