I love cops

This morning at 1.45am I make a big mistake. I stopped for a hotel security bouncer who hailed me. Usually this means either he is loading me up with staff, or drunks. I was working my home district for the last hour, hoping for locals only. With the radio issuing destinations I was having a good run, after a gutless night.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t see who was coming as the bouncer held the door open, refusing to let it go. He knew if he did so, I would piss off. ‘No drunks !’ I yelled, but he assured me the guy only had one too many to drive home. No worries, I thought, a five minute local.

Out staggered a giant of a man, barely upright. ‘He’s alright, mate’, the security guy told me. What could I do. The bloke fell into the front seat and the cab tilted. He was a really dark Melanesian or New Guinean. Rascal, I thought. At 200cm and 100+kilograms the alarm bells went off as he slurred, ‘Regents Park man’. Gawd, out in the western suburbs and not an area I was familiar with. But I had to move on due to waiting traffic.

Blotto and belligerent he refused to nominate an address, a preferred route, or engage in any conversation, short of grunts. Classic signs of passenger malevolence. Tell the driver nothing, then at the end make out it’s the driver who has fucked up. I knew enough though to persist, until he nominated Regents Park shopping centre.

We had stopped in a well-lit area while I sorted it out. By rights, I should have demanded payment in advance but faced with a surly, pissed hulking Islander, I dogged it and headed for Regents Park. On pure faith, bordering on fear.

He quickly fell asleep, which was another potential problem at the end. Hence my insistence on the destination. To be honest, I was spooked as nasty permutations ran through my mind. At best, my intuition said he was going to walk. I’ve had Islanders do it before. Their size and ferociousness gives them the confidence not to run. While his drunken condition ruled out premeditated attack, his rotten attitude made the possibility of a confrontation a certainty. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming.

As we approached the deserted shopping centre, I was sweating and cold. He was still sleeping. At 2 am the joint was dead. What to do ? How will he wake ? Friendly ? I considered hitting the Alarm button, but nothing had happened, yet. Anyway, that option was quickly dismissed as the last time I’d hit my Alarm, in panic, it hadn’t worked !

At 2 in the morning, I had 4 drunk Asians threatening to slice me up, and no one came ! Later, the cab company insisted I’d been in a communications black-spot. On Anzac Parade, Moore Park ?! Yeah right, more like a software design fault, as I later learned. Let me warn other drivers - the M13 Alarm is no guarantee of protection. Even if it does work. How many times are we asked to search an area, for a driver being assaulted - despite our pin-point Global Positioning System !

Then a vehicle appeared up ahead. It was a cruising police patrol car which turned off, only to slow and stop 300 metres down an adjacent street. That was enough for me. I hit the brakes and stopped in the middle of the road, waking my passenger with a jolt. For a full minute he hovered in and out of consciousness as I called, ‘Regents Park shops mate !’. At the same time, I was flashing my side spotlight straight down the road at the cops. Alerted by the powerful beam, they turned around and slowly approached.

The bloke gathered himself up and with one hand on the door, said with a challenging smirk, ‘Thanks for that’. He hadn’t seen the police car. ‘No worries mate, that’s $35’, I replied. Oblivious to what I'd said, he leered at me, ‘Thanks for that, I’ll be seeing ya man’, then opened the door and lurched out. He was huge. I opened my door and signalled to the cops waiting across the road. They hopped out and came across.

‘Hey, mate !’, I called to the drunk slouched against a parked car. He turned around and saw two senior police officers enquiring if everything was alright. It was beautiful. Needless to say I was paid, with $50 in assorted, crumpled notes as the cops walked away. I gave him the change. ‘Fuck ! Whatcha call the cops for man..!’, he protested, but what could he do. The cops sat across the road and waited till the transaction was complete. I love cops.

Comments

[Dirk Thruster]

Better you than me,sunshine.

[adrian]

I dunno, I've worked in those paddocks up there and the brown snakes in summer were deadly. At least you're on a tractor. Throw a brown snake in your cab, and you'll know how I felt Sat. night.

[janet]

I love to cops

[Keith]

Come visit mainepublicsafety.org