A man name Bryant, now 60 years old, recalls being wrongfully arrested in his early 20s for a crime he did not commit. Two undercover plainclothes officers mistakenly believed he and his partner were the suspects they sought. He is sharing his story with his partner, Jean, as they lie in bed one evening before going to sleep. He is telling her, "That cop had me and Gerald lying face down on the ground, my arms and legs were spread apart, along with the barrel of his gun pointed directly at my head yelling, 'Don't you move, don't you move one inch you cocksucker or I'll will splatter your brains out all over this asphalt.' I was scared. I nearly shitted on myself. After the officer read me my rights, I was handcuffed being paraded to the squad car under the watchful eyes of bystanders. The same officer had the audacity to ask me, 'is there is something you care to tell me', I was wondering what he was talking about, adding, 'You can talk to me pal, I know you know what's going around this area, you can trust me, I take care of you.' Trust him, take care of me! The same Son-a-of-bitch that had his gun pointed directly at the back of my head, publicly embarrassing me, threatening my life. Gerald and I were asking them what we did, they told us to shut the f up, jousting and insulting us with name-calling. Later, in handcuffs being taking to the squad car, having the nerve to asked me who was slinging, selling or distributing illegal drugs or other criminal activities, like if I know. Badgering, telling me, 'I know you know something; I know you know who's doing what around here. Talk to me and make it easier on yourself, pal. Wanting me to be some snitch, so him and his partner can earn collars and look good, please—as if some drug dealers would blatantly inform me, 'Hey, check this out, my associates and I plan to manufacture and distribute illegal drugs from the building on the corner.' Or as if a grocer or dry cleaner would casually mention their business serving as a facade for an illicit numbers game. Or a crew of homies tell me that they are planning on executing robbery sprees. Later, inside the squad car, they had the nerve intimidate Gerald and I, part of some erotic gay fantasy set in prison with some brutal convicts, with us getting turned-out gay, after being subjected to abuse or coercion if we were to get incarcerated. I have to admit, we were both scared. Thankfully, we were eventually released without any altercations in the precinct jail. That incident is something Gerald and I will never forget. It turned out that two individuals matching our description had been committing robberies and the true perpetrators were eventually apprehended." Jean tells him, "Thank God, you and Gerald never went to prison." Bryant responds, "Thank God, Gerald and I didn't!" He and Jean talk some more while they are laying on their bed, about ready to doze off to sleep.
THE END
