Philadelphia, a row home with ten people and no booze in the house. Bobby C. grew up craving attention, polishing off half-empty beers in his grandparents' basement bar. He describes himself as a "lying, thieving, stinking, falling down violent drunk" who operated without principles to be accepted. From robbing lockers at a Jesuit high school to running onto a Phillies game to shake hands with Dave Winfield, Bobby lived for the story, not the truth.
As a cop, he saw the ravages of addiction daily while hiding his own. The wreckage peaked when he ran over a child on a bicycle and threw the boy off the street like a piece of trash. After failed suicide attempts involving a blow dryer and a fifth-floor window, a clipped newspaper ad led him to a psychiatric unit. Even sober, he "carried the disease," faking sponsorship and taking pleasure when others relapsed so he could move up the seniority board. He admits he was "crazy as a bed bug" until a man nicknamed Troubles saw through the act.
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