By Trey Rusk
I'll be the first to admit that when cops who used to work together start reminiscing memories fade and stories change.
It wasn't long ago that I met with a friend for lunch. We had worked nights together for several years. It started like this.
"Remember raiding the that biker bar in Galveston with the tactical unit?"
"Do you remember that guy who tried to fight us in the bar restroom with that stick?"
It was a broom and we took it away from him.
"I remember the leg sweep I performed to take him down."
He was so drunk he tripped and fell.
"The uniformed guys couldn't handle him."
The patrol guys didn't want him because he shit himself.
"That guy was a hand full and could have easily hurt one of us."
The last time I saw him he was crying in the back seat of a patrol car.
"I heard he really gave the jailers a bad time."
The jailers placed him in a shower stall and hosed him down and he was last seen naked curled up in the fetal position sucking his thumb.
"Crooks didn't mess with us. Right Partner?