Shortly after they handcuffed my officer, the story of how this incident evolved, came to light. They also found his badge & learned that we were from the nearby military base. We weren’t charged with anything because essentially, we were just in the wrong place. Unless you want to attribute my drunken argument with the angry male locals not to punch my husband as drunk & disorderly but I view it as determination while intoxicated. Maybe it was my fiery Irish flare showing off?
After we went back to base, there was a unit meeting that I have blocked from my mind as it is still somewhat humiliating. I did not practice the art of being seen & not heard during it. The damage done during the bar incident was mostly to my husband’s glasses. Someone “sucker punched” him.
The following morning, I learned that the officers at the bar are the same officers that are also volunteer fire fighters with the unit’s chief. This means that at breakfast, the chief already knew the whole story. Who knew the possibilities in a small town like that? Word travels fast. Maybe police aren’t the only ones my husband can use the “telegraph, telephone, tell a cop” logic on.
That weekend, I earned the reputation of being a party animal with a fiery side among the military folks, since my officer has a quiet disposition, they felt we compliment each other.
