I obviously had a thing for uniforms and guns and ended up on a couple of dates with another cop I met in one club, then left and saw him in another one that same night. He was persistent and I really wasn’t interested, so I made him work for the date and wouldn’t give him my phone number. Instead, I gave him my email address and corresponded a few times before actually feeling comfortable enough to call him.
He invited me over to his house for lunch one day, which was nice because I could leave quickly afterwards. What I didn’t realize was that he lived in one of the worst neighborhoods in the area and his house was surrounded by a huge wall with security gates, etc. I felt like I was at Hotel California – you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave without anyone letting you out. But since he was a cop, I felt that he was probably safe, so I overlooked that part and made an evening date with him.
Unfortunately, he never took me out on a real date and invited me back to the Compound. He made dinner, but he seemed a little freaky and rehearsed, blasting Enigma on the stereo and trying to seduce me. I’m not even sure we actually kissed, because I don’t remember. I do recall using his bathroom and wondering whose long hair was on his floor and how long it had been there.
I wish I could get into more detail with this one, but all I can say is I think he liked his cats better than me. They got more attention and probably got more out of the date than I did. As it turns out, he was Crooked Cop’s best friend, but I hadn’t met Crooked Cop yet.
Years later I ran into him a couple of times when I was married. He was doing the same exact thing he always did – at a club getting shitfaced and trying to pick up women.