The Badge Bunny
|Proper noun: A female that goes out only with cops and firemen.|
|n. a female (presumably) who enjoys boinking and actively pursuing sexual relationships with cops and firefighters|
|A female, usually of the barely legal age range, who spends her time chasing police officers and firefighters and offering them her ‘services’ in hopes of gaining status among her badge bunny friends. see also holster sniffer, most commonly found at all night restaurants and gas stations.|
I have some personal experience with badge bunnies. They aren’t nice women. I know this because I had the displeasure of dealing with one.
Last November, a girl that had gone to high school with Johnny sought him out on Facebook. Let’s just say that the messages she sent to him were far from innocent. In fact, her intentions were quite obvious to me. Johnny however, insisted she had absolutely no intentions and was just trying to be nice. Mmhm. Whatever.
Since she had put her cell phone number in one of her messages I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and give her a call. I thought I’d suggest a dinner date with Johnny and I and her and her husband. Something like, “Johnny told me you’ve been in touch and I’d really love to meet you too. Would you and your husband like to join us for dinner?” She didn’t answer the phone, and my five year old was wanting something from me so I didn’t leave a message and just hung up to go help Krissy.
While I was outside she called me back and when she heard my outgoing voicemail message that it was ME and not Johnny she left me a VERY rude message. Basically confirmed my suspicions. Then for the next 90 minutes she and her girlfriend harassed me via text message. Basically she had gotten caught and like any scared animal caught in the corner, she attacked.
Well, Little Miss, I printed every single one of those messages, and it really didn’t take much effort to find your husband’s name and your home address and phone number. You see, I am GOOD with internet searches. I even know your husband’s HAM radio call numbers.
All I have to do is mail it all to your husband. But I won’t. Why? Because, unlike you, I don’t enjoy trying to ruin the marriage of another woman. My mind just doesn’t function that way. And I’m so sorry (especially for your kids) that yours does. You’re trash. I am such a better person than you will ever be.
My Johnny will not be another notch in your lipstick case, darlin’!