Yep the title pretty much says it all for this blog post. Strangest two days I’ve ever had in the car, and the drunk pixie ninja loon I could have gone my whole life without, but hey. So on to the reason for “two police reports cramping my hand in two days” stories!

The other night after taking a dancer home from Platinum84, I clear the meter and head back west on 84th to get into my home zone area. As I’m slowing for a right hand turn, I noticed something very odd…a car in the right lane going east…just sitting there, headlights out. This time of evening it could be just idiot DUI-to-be-ers, but just as I start to look away the driver side door pops open. As I get closer, a woman stumbles into the street waving her arms and screaming bloody murder.

‘Ruh-roh’ is my first thought.

Then she falls to her knees, waving and gesturing at all the helpful people not helping her, rather just driving on by nearly clipping her. As she’s close to the Federal blvd intersection, she is asking to get smeared by someone making a turn, but she’s oblivious. Taking a deep breath, and realizing that I’m not going to be making a nickel for the next hour or two, I pop the hazards on the cab, cross lanes and then put the car in front of her diagonally so she doesn’t get turned into road pizza.

I roll down the window.

“Ma’am what’s wrong?”
Her waving toward the darkened car: “He’s tryin’ to beat me to death!”

I look toward the car and see a guy in the front seat, gesturing at her and angry looking as a pit viper.

“Ruh-roh x 10” is now my thought as visions of murdered people who were ignored by passersby starts floatin’ in my brain. Oh yeah, and murdered cabbies pops in there as well, I won’t deny.

Me: “Get the hell in the car. I’ll get 911”.

She doesn’t blink twice at this and jumps in the back seat. I flip a U-ey and head about a hundred yards away so I can keep an eye on el-Senior who is now out of the other vehicle while I call 911.

This intersection, as an fyi, is close to three gentlemen’s clubs (read: strip bars) and four dive bars plus one dance bar, so there are normally oh, about a platoon of police nearby, and sure enough, not thirty seconds later a platoon of cop cars, an ambulance and a fire/rescue truck come screeching up to the scene.

Woman is hysterical, but I leave her to better hands.

Turns out she had the better end of the deal. She’d practically bitten off one of the guy’s fingers (according to the officer talking near me) and both her and the dude were hauled off to the hospital to sort it all out.

Me? I got writer’s cramp from hand writing what you just read on a police report. The officers on scene thanked me for doing what I did. I thanked them for getting there so fast…which was nice.

I’m still boggled at the number of folks that just kept on going. Of course I know in my head most folks “don’t want to get involved”, but I’ll never understand it.
I rolled on.

Part two: The Pixie Ninja Bitch from Hell (TM)

I’m still a little woozed out and adrenalized out sitting here writing this. I’m going to be one sore unit in the morning. Sigh.

So…the evening started out as a potential disaster as the cab company computers (dispatch/bells/meters) were down and were reported to be staying down for most of the evening. What this amounts to is manually calculating via car mileage the fare amount, and calling dispatch on the cell phone just to get a job.

Turns out my car has an old fashioned fare meter…which still works. Over half the drivers quit for the night because of the problems. This meant that I was rolling hard core on calls like it was the start of a holiday weekend. (GO ME! )

Toward the end of the evening I call into dispatch and get a call at a bar in the zone area I know and pickup/drop off from a lot. I roll to the place, and there are three women…plus two cop cars waiting for lil’ ol’ moi to arrive. Turns out the police had told the three to either get in a cab, or go to detox as two of them were completely and totally shitfaced. No other word other than zombie-fried fits.

After several minutes of futzing about the third woman, who called for the ride and is fairly sober, shuffles the other two into the back, and off we go on a very short hop to her house.

The entire time, one of the women (guess which!) is SCREAMING that she wants to go home to Greeley and WANTS HER CAR!. My ears and eyes are almost bleeding at the end of the five minute ride because motormouth lunatic is sitting directly behind me.

So I pull up, and sober woman pulls catatonic blond drunk woman out first. Screamer then states they she won’t get of the ‘feckin’ cab as the driver has just stolen her keys. As I’m the driver, this is news to me, and I politely tell her the ride is done and to please exit the car. I won’t print what came out of her mouth, but as an old Navy veteran, it was surprising even to me.

I hop out, open the rear door after waving over sober woman to help.

Me: “Ma’am please leave the cab now or I’ll have to call the police back.”

Her:……well not a peep. Rather She-Bitch-From Hell TM turns like a ninja warrior at the speed of light and slaps me so hard across the face my glasses went sailing. Sober woman friend freaks out, and I stumble backward. Then like a cat out of an airport box, she comes hissing and screaming and tries to tear off the cab communications antennae.

I swoop around to try and pull her off my car (visions of damage and shop and no income dancing in my skull, I’ll admit) and she then screams that I’m a thief and have stolen her keys and her car and that the f’ing cabbie should die…

And proceeded to attempt to make it so. I’ll just say that I’ve been in a fight or three, but NEVER ANYTHING AS surreal as this.

It felt like I had a rabid cat jumping all over me, and I had no real way to get her off of at this point. I just put two hands forward and shoved her back. It was like she was on a slinky spring and she was instantly in the air crawling around my back and shoulders (I kid not.) hitting my arms, head and trying to claw out my eyes. I spun around trying to throw her off and it knocked miss sober woman on her butt. I should have let the freak stay on my back. The moment Ninja-Monster TM was clear, I turn my head to find out where she went…when kaboom and stars time. She hit me square in the nose, and I snapped my head back….into the car door frame.
At this point sober woman is freaking worse and sobbing about how sorry she is (very helpful…not). Sober woman’s husband has just come into the yard and manages to pull the lunatic off of my back. I’m just trying not to see three of everything at this point.

He drags her, spitting and screaming into the house and I fumble out my cell phone and dial 911.

Same two cops who were at the bar come screeching up. First one looks at me and I can see the “oh shit” look on his face. I am getting back to just double vision at this point so I tell him what happened in a garbled sentence or three…when ninja nutjob comes walking back out of the house towards us as calm as you please, and my scrambled brain thinks:

“Dear gods this is a beautiful woman.” (Had to have been the door frame affecting me.)

She stands right up to the officers car. I back away to let the cop do his thing. He does the normal search/n/cuff and all is calm…until he tried to get her in the back seat of the cruiser.

Like Jekyll and Hyde, she turned instantly into Ninja Monster TM again. Now to clarify, this girl is 5’2’ish and MAYBE 110 pounds soaking wet, and she nearly knocked the officer off his feet. Then with cuffs on tries to elbow him in the head, which she almost manages. Two other cruisers show up and three police are now trying to stuff Madam Mayhem TM into the car and aren’t having any better luck, when she turns, falls onto the back seat of the cruiser and wham-bam starts kicking them. They drag her out, and slam her against the car and she continues to fight, which then leads to the ground for her, and three officers trying to control her.
Frankly at this point I thought the COPS show needed to have a camera out. This was better than amazing, just for the size difference not making any…difference.

They finally managed to stuff her in the car, and I had yet another police report to fill out, only this time, I am betting money that I’m going to see a courtroom as a witness/victim on this one. Assaulting police officers, blind drunk or no, be a baaaaad thing to do. Oh and cab drivers as well.

Last bit though. I will never, IN MY LIFE, EVER, NEVER EVER, say ANYTHING bad about the police. In my job, I deal with them often for stuff, and after seeing some of the crap I’ve seen, they have one of the shittiest jobs on planet earth for which most people basically call em pigs. Not me…I call them heroes, and now, in this crazy job I’m doing, I get to see it up close and personal.

In Denver at least, the respect is reciprocated to us cabbies as far as I can tell. I have nothing but good things to say about how kind and respectful and FAST they are to help us drivers. We help them on many calls for driving stuff as well as Amber alerts and such as well. I’ve heard in some places this isn’t so, but here in the Mile Hi City, call me a fan.

Now, I’m going to take aspirins and go to bed. I’ll roll tomorrow.