ABSTRACT
W hen I was in high sch ool, I th o u g h t, “M aybe I’ll try o u t for the C alifornia H ighw ay Patrol (c h p ) .” T h en in d river ed classes, th ey show you c h p m ovies o f all th e bodies th a t have g o tte n in accidents, and I said, “I
d o n ’t w ant to see th a t .” A fter college, I g o t a job at M etro p o litan Life In su ran ce
paying m edical claim s. A fter a cou ple o f years I th o u g h t, “I am n o t geared for
sitting behind a desk eigh t h ou rs a day, five days a w eek. This crap isn't cu ttin g
it.” I was in a bar, and a sergeant in th e sheriff’s d ep a rtm e n t cam e in handing
o u t notices th a t th e police d ep artm en t was taking applications, and gays and
lesbians w ere m o re th a n w elco m e to apply. I th o u g h t, “H ot sh it,” and I filled
o u t th e application. It w ent from th ere , and I’ve been doing it ever since.
