One week night when business was really slow three or four of the late night group were sitting around shooting the breeze and watching TV. The big screen set was showing a local program that bragged about being "brought to you live and uncut"; "showing your police dollars at work." It amounted to a locally produced program where this police groupie took his camcorder out on patrol with the local police during the late night/early morning shift and recorded the boys in blue in action. It wasn't really "brought live" because the producers didn't have the technology. It was the same as live thought because it was never edited. The show we happened to catch that night was the last one before the lawsuits and one of the last ever.

The name of the show was Blue Lights. Mostly it caught the police as they were called to domestic disputes, drunk drivers, or robberies at the Seven-Eleven. Lots of robberies at the Seven-Eleven, as it seemed there was a place around the corner where they were lining up and taking numbers to see who would go next. However on this night the police were in the black section of downtown checking out the sex for sale market.

Some folks may be offended by words like "the black section of town" or the insinuation that "the sex for sale market" might be found there. To these folks I say GET REAL! It took me a long time to start saying "black" section. And you know every town has one. If you are the least bit worldly, you also know the sex market part is true as well. Nevertheless on this night Blue Lights was coming to us from the red lights district.

"God damn," shouted Matt. "That looks like Russell on TV! Look here. By god that is Russell! Russell, what the hell you doing on TV?"

There was no doubt it was Russell on TV. There was also no doubt the show was not coming to us "live", because Russell was one of the guys watching the set at the Riverbend. Russell was turning colors faster than the TV. He had just passed dark red and was moving into crimson.

Russell was a nice guy who had two problems: women and drinking. Normally he lead a very quite, ordinary life. He owned his own business. He was married with nice children, a dog, nearly new house, and a bass boat. Just your average kind of red-blooded , middle-class southern American-except for about twice a year! It was inevitable that twice a year he was going to screw-up. I was surprised I had not noticed the symptoms. He was out much later than usual and he was sipping a beer instead of his usual soda, but he hadn't been wild like he would normally get when his "time" was coming on.

Red was the one to name the episodes. One day someone noticed Russell acting in a manner totally unlike any they had seen before, and asked, "what's got into Russell?"

"It's time," said Red.

When it was "time", Russell was going to start drinking. Not just a little drinking, but big time drain the Atlantic Ocean type drinking. When he had a big enough head-start he began to think about women-any women. The first time we saw it come over him he had been drinking hard for almost three days. He came to the place in a cab driven by one of the homeliest women we had seen. I mean we are talking 'back a bulldog off a cliff' ugly. He got out of the back and opened the door for her. They came into the bar together. He bought drinks and "showed her off" for two, three hours while they made frequent trips to the dance floor. On the last excursion to the back and while whirling to Rolling On the River, Russell gave an extra big swing. When he did the lady cab driver's wig flew off and right into Russell's face. Russell dropped the lady and fainted dead away. After she was gone and we had revived Russell he told us everything we needed to know with his first words. "God damn, did her head really come off!"

This night as we all turned our attention to Blue Lights, we found ourselves looking at Russell in the front seat of his car. The guy with the camcorder was following the cop and he had his lights on bright. Russell was trying to cover his eyes to knock out the light, and trying to cover his face at the same time. The cop was asking for Russell's drivers license and registration and Russell was asking why he was being stopped. It was obvious to us Russell was shit-faced, but the cop did not appear to notice yet. Russell was also yelling for the guy to get the "fucking camera" out of his face.

When the camera came out of his face it panned across the front interior of the car and landed on the big, black, sexily attired passenger. Now the cop was demanding Russell get out of the car. He was complying.

The camera held a close-up of Russell and the cop and their conversation. It went like this.

"Have you been drinking, sir?"

"Maybe a beer or two."

"I notice you seem to be lost. I observed you circling this block three times before you picked up this woman. Are you aware soliciting is against the law?"

"Look here officer, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't circle no block. I just got here. And the only reason the lady is in my car is I'm giving her a ride home. Ain't no law against giving a lady a ride home is there? And as for you, you sumbitch," Russell said to the cameraman, "if you don't turn that motherfucker off me, I'm gonna whip your ass."

"Well sir," said the policeman. "I have been observing this lady for sometime and she has talked to several cars before you. I am prepared to arrest her for prostitution and you for solicitation."

Meanwhile the camera was moving back and forth between the cop, Russell, and the passenger. As the officer completed his last threat the passenger got out of the car. Reaching to the large afro hairdo it was pulled away, while at the same time a deep voice said, "I ain't selling nothing cause I ain't got nothing to sell." A few quick swipes across the face with the wig and as the makeup peeled away, it became apparent Russell's passenger was a man.

"You sumbitch," yelled Russell. "You were going to take my money and you ain't even got a pussy!" The TV screen switched to a commercial by a local second-hand furniture store. It looked pretty much like the end of the Russell hour.

"Well," said Matt. "What happened then?"

"you bastards ain't gonna believe this, but the guy pulled off both shoes, pulled his skirt over his hips, and hauled ass faster than a Gator wide receiver. And I'll tell you something else. There ain't no doubt what it was a man. His equipment was a flopping in the wind when he sailed through that vacant lot. The cop was so shook he told me to get in my car and get the fuck out of there. He forgot all about whether or not I was drinking. Now I'm calling home. If I wake up my wife I'm going home. If she's been watching TV, I'm leaving town!"