Undercover funds bought cop a hand job
By Harry Dunne
I can remember when going to work was something I looked forward to. Times have changed and with it policing.
I remember working whores in the sailor bars in Galveston, Texas. Most of the whore houses were dimly lit and had small booths with beaded entrances. The girls were mostly Asian but there were some whites and blacks sprinkled in the mix. The Madam sat at the end of the bar so she could see most of the bar. As in most clip joints they plied the men with liquor and took them for most of their money. When they were broke they were ushered out by the bouncer. Here is the kicker. Most of the time the girls never sold pussy. Instead they would get a man drunk and maybe sell him a hand job. At the most a blow job. I told you that to tell you this.
I needed an undercover agent from out of town because most of the prostitutes knew my crew. In fact when we did open bar checks we often joked with the girls and there was no ill feelings toward us or us toward the girls. Everybody was doing their job. The Madam always sat at the end of the bar and could see everything going on. HQ sent me a rookie from East Texas. He was as green as they get. I went over the rules with him explaining that all he had to do was get an offer of sex for money.
These prostitutes were good at their job. They knew this guy wasn’t a seaman or had he ever worked on a dock. I was sitting in my car behind the jail when the rookie called me on the radio in twenty minutes tops. There were no pocket sized cell phones then. He wanted to meet me. He drove to my location and looked scared. It was then that he said, “Sarge,I got an offer, but she was too quick.” He then explained that once they got in the booth behind the beads she stuck her hand down his pants and jerked him off. If that wasn’t bad enough, he paid her $40 of the state’s money. I told him it would be difficult to testify about it. I then told him to give me back $40 of the state’s money. He didn’t have it. I then told him to get back to Jasper or wherever he came from and not come back.
He was scared and wanted to know what he should put down on his daily report. I told him don’t write, drove to Galveston bought a beer and a hand job!
1 comment:
The rookie never made probation. True story.
Post a Comment