Dear Badge Bunnies.
Yep, the tattooed cop doing the bar walk is smokin’. He’s confident, built, and the uniform sure doesn’t hurt.
But you don’t know that he wishes he never followed this career path.
You don’t know that the sound of crying babies shakes him to his core, for a number of reasons too morose to repeat.
You don’t know that he’s had to try several different medications to find one that mostly works for him.
You don’t know that he plays hours of video games, maybe to avoid actively processing the things he witnesses and handles.
You don’t know that he gets sick A LOT, forever worn down from mental and physical exhaustion. And he is a very difficult, non-compliant patient.
You don’t know that he is increasingly isolated, making my friendships complicated at times.
You don’t know that he can go from zero to a hundred over a double parked car.
I’m not the jealous type and I trust him infinitely so by all means, say the cheesy line as he cuts through the crowd. But you should know that the weight of that uniform is almost unbearable most days.