A snapshot of how a police uniform came to define a young man's sexual orientation.

The feel and cut of a police uniform, the smell and weight of leather belts, a holstered gun, highly polished black boots, the silver star over my left tit, and the requisite metal-rimmed dark glasses, assaulted my senses like a opiate each night in the police locker room. Over night, I was inducted into a frenzied life of violence, risk, sexual exploration, and deception. I bonded with a group of men who fed a similar appetite.