It was 1980, Houston, Texas. I was homeless. Staying in a rescue mission. Another fella had gotten us a job with a local mover. We had gotten off work too late one Friday night to get into the mission. Since we had just gotten paid, we were going to get a hotel room so we could have a place to stay when two police agents stopped their car and shined their light on us. They motioned for us to come over to their car. They began asking all kinds of smartass questions, like were we a couple of faggots, and other general insults. I took out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down the nearest one's name. I asked him if the other agent had a name. He looked over and said, "Lets go!" They got out of the car and threw me across the hood. I asked them why they were doing this. They said I was under arrest. I asked them what for and one replied, "We'll think of something." After they put me in the back of the car, one walked over to the sidewalk and came back with two joints. "Possession of marijuana," he said. While on the way to jail, they stopped and chatted with two prostitutes. I was infuriated. I hadn't broken any laws and was on my way to jail, and here were two hookers they knew broke the law on a regular basis and they acted like they were all buddies. On the way up the padded elevator, I was surrounded by several agents who were trying to pick a fight so they could beat me. I knew better than to fight with them. I spent the weekend in the Houston jail. I got to watch several other prisoners being beaten by the guards. On Monday, the agents didn't show up for court so I got out. One defendant was taken out and back down the long hallway whereb they beat him badly. Another threw up in the courtroom. I went to Internal Affairs right after I got out. I don't know what ever became of it because I left the whole state of Texas. Haven't been back since.