True stories by Murl Harpham














































Call me strange, but I never liked it when a suspect would spit in my face.  One evening 40 plus years ago I responded to a Purity Store (do they even exist anymore) to take a shoplifter into custody. 

I’d had to deal with this jerk before and he was always that---a big jerk.  In fact, the store personnel had to physically hold him down until I got there.  I transported him to our station and when  I opened the door to get him out, he spit a big “lunger” right in my face. 

I calmly closed the door, locking him in the car, and proceeded into the station to wipe off.  I obtained a urine test bottle and proceeded to put warm water in it along with a little salt.  (A prostitute once told me that it tasted salty)  I added color  to the mixture by squeezing a wet tea bag over it. 

I returned to my car keeping my back to the suspect.  I simulated like I was peeing, even adding a little shaking motion for effect.  I turned around exposing the bottle and held it high like I was inspecting my work. 

You know what happened next?  I opened the car door,  pulled the suspect over in the seat so he was laying on his back and poured the contents into his face.   

I then whispered in his ear that if he ever  spit on me again it would be stuff from another aperture  of my body that would find it’s way to his face. 

Guess, what?  After that whenever I had to deal with him he was mister nice guy. 

Murl Harpham