ROAD WARRIOR

It was primarily my fault.

  I got greedy.  I was driving cab at night in Charleston, S.C.  It was a Saturday night.  I had passed my goal of two hundred dollars by five.  The last fare gave me a couple of buds and I was near home.  It was 2:15 A.M. I should have quite but it was busy so I thought I'd dip one more time.  It was a misstake.

He hailed me on N. Market St.  A young guy, maybe in his early twenties.  I had the feeling he was Scottish.  He said he wanted to go to Mt. Pleasent.  That was a bad start.  It was called the mystery destination game.  Mt. Pleasent was an area not a destination.

He wanted cigarettes so we stopped at the Exxon on Meeting St.  Every hoodlum in the hood was there.

When we got onto the bridge to Mt. Pleasent I asked him if we should take the Coleman exit or 17 N.  He said it didn't matter.  That raised the red flag of warning.

I thought of asking for the fare up front but felt it would start an arguement so I decided to ride on.  After much hesitation he said he wanted to go to the Mt. Pleasent town Center at 17 and the Isle of Palm connector.

So we drive out there.  We pull into the parking lot.  It's deserted.  I asked him where he wanted to to stop.  "anywhere" he said.  We'll that was it.  There was nothing open.  There were no houses anywhere. near.  Instinct told me this guy was gonna' try and run out on the fare.

I stopped and told him the fare was fifteen dollars.  He started giving me a hard time.  He wanted to see my badge.  ( Apparently drivers in Scotland have a badge designating them as drivers) He questioned if I was a real driver.  I showed him my license and again stated the fare was fifteen dollars.  He said he'd pay when he got out.  That was B.S.  The second he got out he'd run like a rabbit. Then he tried to open the door.

Guess what?  He couldn't get out.  The cab was an old police car and the door didn't open from the inside.  Now I knew he was gonna' run. 

I said, "It really pisses me off when someone doesn't pay".  With that I started the cab and started driving real fast.  Then to see if I could scare the money out of him I said, "When people do that I beat the shit out of them".

He must have believed me and panicked because he lay down on the back seat and started kicking the window till he broke it.  He tried to get out of it but I was going too fast.  He came back inside then tried to get out the other door.  When that didn't work he grabbed me so I couldn't see.  I had slowed down so I couldn't throw him thru the window by slamming on the brakes.  I stopped the cab and put it in park and opened the door.

He went out the back door.  I wanted to get to the tire jack in the trunk.

Road warrior had emerged.  He had crossed the line.

A.  He wasted my time.

B.  He didn't pay the fare.

C.  He broke my cab and interfered with my lively hood.

D.  And he dared to lay hands on me.

Three strikes your out.  He had four.  He was way out.  He had made a misstake of antagonizing a veteran road warrior.  I got the tire jack out of the trunk.  As slowly and as cooly as Clint Eastwood stalking the bad guys, I approached him as he frantically pounded on the door of the gas station which was closed.

When I was about fifteen feet from him he turned to face me.  I said, "Wanna' piece of this, come get it".  He did.  When he got close I wacked him  Or should I say it was more like a clunk.  A solid heavy clunk.  It split his head open and knocked his glasses off.  I said, "How'd ya' like that?.  He didn't.

He was drunk, injured and didn't have his glasses.  My advantage.  He tried to kick me in the nuts.  This veteran of many street fights knows a sober guy can easily defeat a drunk.  The alcohol throws their timing off.  He missed then tried to grab the jack.  He didn't get it then tried a fake move.  Didn't work.  He came at me again but I backed him off with a swing of the jack.  He backed off then tried to kick me again.  He missed

Bad news, recently I had lost some weight and my pants were starting to fall down. 

Worse I didn't have any under pants on.  I manuevered till there was a gas pump between me and him thus preventing a direct charge. Holding my pants up with one hand I said, "Want another kiss punk, come and get it".

About this time he noticed the blood streaming down his face from when I'd split his pumpkin head open.  Realizing he was injured and had crossed swords with the wrong nigger he ran off into the night.

I called the dispatcher who called the police.  When they showed up it turns out he had gone to a nearby bar.  When he got nasty with the police he was arrested.  He went to the hospital then to jail.

Shoulda, known better than to fuck with me.