"Assume the Position"
Well, I thought philosophically, at least I was being busted by the good-looking cop. He was polite and professional as well, snapping me into handcuffs carefully and telling me my rights in a clear monotone. He didn't feel any need to separate my arm from my shoulder as he escorted me to the van. "They started it," I said with a stab at dignity. "Watch your step, sir," he said as he put me in the van. I sat on the bench and stared at him for a second, then grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. There was a flash of something in his eyes and a barely perceptible twitch of his lips before he turned away. I sighed, sat back, and closed my eyes. It had been a very well organized, legal gay rights demonstration until a very disorganized, illegal crowd watching had decided to harass us, not realizing that "gay" is not a synonym for "wimp." Later it was discovered that one of the county commissioners and two members of the mayor's staff were arrested wearing "Gay Pride" buttons, and several of the opposition had outstanding warrants. Half of us were quietly released, half of us went on to bigger and better busts, and the media had a field day. The front page of the newspaper had a gorgeous photo of me and the studly cop, who was behind me, handcuffing me, leaning forward and talking into my ear. I knew he was doing it so that he could be heard over the crowd noise, but it looked like a date in a leather bar. My friends thought it erotic and amusing, and I shuddered to think what his friends thought. 

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