Pepper Spray, Chines Menus and 5 to 10 for Assault: Getting My Ass Kicked on the Lower East Side (1121 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.84 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Isaac Bickerstaff (View user info) at 2004-12-22 02:36:31 EST
By the time the actual cops showed their lame asses up, I was sitting on the front steps to my building with that feeling in my stomach, right?
I was writing a note to give to the two guys in white uniforms who showed up first to take Jack away, the guys who showed up in that truck and thought I was gonna just hand him over to them. This was gonna be a day all about notes.
They shoulda known the Girl wasn't home. They shoulda known that the only chance of this episode ending in some way other than blood and mace and prison was to come when the Girl was home. I tried to tell them, seriously swear to fucking god I tried like hell to tell em. Guys like that never listen, though; guys in uniforms with official looking papers and badges, guys who drive cars with medallions on the side, they never listen. I swear to fuck I tried to tell them.
You think I wanted to go to prison?
My therapist says that I gotta stop blaming the Girl, but straight up now I never really blamed the Girl; it's just always been easier to say, "I went to jail cuz the Girl wasn't home," than it is to say, "I went to jail cuz I'm a loser lovesick jackass fuckup."
The two guys in white uniforms showed me a paper with a stamp on it that I was supposed to be impressed by and said that he was a "danger" and all that sorta official talk that always boils down to "fuck you, we got uniforms and badges." I asked em if they had guns and they said no, just a court order, so I told em that sorry but Jack was staying with me.
And then their mouths were moving so crazy fast and I could only guess that words were coming out but fucking gospel man I couldn't hear any of it. Maybe I need to learn more words cuz all I heard coming out is that they're taking Jack and everything else was just noise like glass scraping my brain. You don't understand, I told em, you can't take Jack.
What I meant to say was please, right? I mean I should have maybe said please, cuz that's what I meant, "Please don't take Jack, you don't understand. Please don't take him," but I didn't, I guess I don't know enough words, so I just said sorry, no.
So they kept talking and I kept saying sorry, no, and once it became clear that we're not getting anywhere they said that they're gonna have to call the cops, "backup" they called it.
And I sighed and said okay and I knew full well that this was gonna be really bad once the guys who do have guns showed up cuz I still couldn't let em take Jack and I wasn't lookin forward to getting shot but facts was facts. And then I looked around and tried to feel something profound cuz I knew right then that this was probably gonna be my last day on the outside for a while, maybe a long while, and I should've probably carpe fucking diem-ed for at least a few minutes before the sheriff showed up, but I didn't.
Feel anything, I mean.
And now I'm sitting here writing a note. I didn't have any paper but there was a menu from Lucky Lee's Fish Emporium and so I'm writing on that. Lookin back, maybe I shoulda wrote a note to the Girl; "Sorry," it would have said, "They came to get Jack and I couldn't stop em. I tried my hardest, but they had papers with stamps and also guns. I hope Jack knows I tried my hardest."
It only takes me a second, but by the time I'm done, there's Deputy Dawg and his rookie partner pulling up all sideways in front of my apartment in their big ole shiny car.
And then they get out all slow, right? Like they got guns and don't need to rush and let's be honest, brothers and sisters, they're fucking right. They got guns, so we got all day.
I stand up and walk over to the guys in white uniforms, the ones who don't got guns, and I hand em the note and tell em to dial 911. They got their paper with the stamp, I got my note on Lucky Lee's, but they need to dial 911.
They ask me why cuz the cops just showed up and I say no you're not calling for more police.
"Ambulance," I say. "Call for an ambulance. Read em that note."
But the guys in white uniforms aren't listening to me really, they only pay attention to papers with stamps on em not notes written on Chinese restaurant menus; they're motioning to Deputy Dawg that I'm clearly a punk ass troublemaker and then they stand back and fold their arms like they're about to watch a show, like we told you so now take your beat down like a man while we stand here and smirk at your bloody ass.
So while the two gunslingers are swaggering up to me, I tell the guys in white uniforms one more time to call 911 and read them that note, but no fucking good, kids, they don't wanna hear it.
And then it's on, right? I mean I try a couple more times, I tell Deputy Dawg that he should wait for the Girl to come home, that she can explain why they can't take Jack and it will all make sense if they will just wait for the Girl. She can make all this okay, I tell em, but they don't care, cuz they got badges; they got badges and guns and an official paper with a stamp on it.
The rookie is clearly trying to impress his boss, he asks me if I want to go downtown, not even kidding; "you wanna go downtown?" like in a late night Kojak rerun. When I don't really answer cuz let's be honest I aint good with all these explanations, he tries to spin me around and shove me toward the foyer wall while he's pulling out his handcuffs.
I see over my shoulder that a second cruiser is stopping, and two more uniforms are sauntering out towards us, like they wanna see what the action is, right? Not like they wanna help out, or clarify the situation or support the peace; just like they wanna check it out, ya know?
Like pay per view.
And I'm out. I'm fresh fucking out of words, and no one wants to listen anyways, so now it's all about the note. I already wrote it down, and now it's all about the note. I'm wishing for the Girl, cuz she would make it okay, she would put her fragile hands on my big mitts and she would say the thing, the thing that makes it okay. But she's not home yet from the store, and it aint okay, they got guns and it aint okay and even though I'm trying I can't imagine what she would say.
And as the rookie tries to twist me, he forgets, or more likely never knew, that sometimes the shaggy ass, no-luck-having bastard that you're arresting might be more than he seems, right? Like he might be fragile, or edgy or even dangerous, but the rookie has forgotten that or never knew.
I remind him when I shatter his temple with my elbow.
He drops to his hands and knees like a, well, like a fucking rookie, and I only got a second to do it but I take it cuz I already wrote it down and I stomp his head, but just the once.
Deputy Dawg is more surprised than anything and is well entrenched in alcohol soft middle age so it aint like he's the fastest fucker on two legs anyhow. The two other uniforms are running up the stairs toward us now and as he pulls out his stick I bury my foot in Dawg's side and feel two ribs go, one fewer than I expected, but he is wearing a vest so I forgive myself. His nightstick clatters down the steps after him as he lands on his ass half in the street, fuckin bitch.
I put my hands up at the next two uniforms and start to ask them to wait for the Girl, she'll be home any second and will explain everything right? I glance up into my apartment and can see Jack lookin out, his ears all up, smarter than all of us. He hardly looks "vicious" like the paper with the stamp calls him. But I don't get any words out because the mace hits, good fucking shot, too, and that's the damn truth. And my face fucking explodes.
And then they're all in my shit and holy fuck was that a fucking beating to remember. Out of one bleeding ear I can hear one of the guys in the white uniforms finally talking to emergency response and reading what I wrote him on the Lucky Lee's manu, practically shouting, "two men down, one with multiple skull fractures, one with three broken ribs and a possible punctured lung." See I only broke two, but the note said three which means I owe him one, cuz we got to listen to the paper, right?
I hope I spelled "punctured" right, and I hope I get a shot at the third rib.
But that mace, man, it does the trick and make no mistake; I'm like a fucking Girl Scout run out of cookies. The two uniforms are standing on my ass and pounding away and as I watch the second guy in white lead Jack out of my apartment and down the stairs into the truck, I tell myself that my face is all wet from the mace.
The two uniforms are working out their aggression on my skull with those sticks and spraying me every now and again just for good measure and don't think, my brothers that I'm not fighting back cuz I am, just not very fucking well, hear me? And then there are more cops and more knees and elbows and those fucking sticks man, I got the sticks for days.
And words came back to me then, just not the right ones, cuz I'm screamin and, I'll say it bitches, even begging them but no one cares right? Cuz the paper with the stamp on it says "vicious" and "euthanasia" and this whole sordid scene has been about papers and Jack and I and Deputy Dawg and his rookie are getting the short end of it.
His tail is wagging when they put him in that little box in the back of the truck, his tail is wagging and he's looking at me like it's a game, like we're heading to the park and his ears are forward but he's sorta confused cuz I'm all getting curb stomped and no kidding I can hear it, brothers, I can hear the beating of his brave, brave heart even up until the box slams shut and the truck drives away, and the beating I'm taking goes on and on and fucking on, even past when the ambulance shows up to take Deputy Dawg and the rookie away.
When they load my broken shit into the back of the cruiser and cuff me in, I hear the Girl screaming and turn and see her out the back window. She's running toward us, a bag of dropped groceries on the sidewalk. Her skin is white and perfect and she's running and getting smaller and smaller as we drive away and I can only see out of one eye cuz the other is already all swollen closed and she's running and she gets smaller and smaller.
And I keep thinking about Jack. About how he'll prance into the white office and onto the metal table, how he'll look up at the vet tech and wag his tail even as the needle goes in. He'll go to sleep, dreaming of rabbits and green grass and sunlight and hopefully will never think of me in a cage, lying in a cage with my eyes swollen close, telling myself that my face is wet from the mace.
User Reviews
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-06-21 01:32:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Red. Shh. Don't tell everyone.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2007-06-20 14:01:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fey,pissy?? Never!!
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-06-20 13:44:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You were being pissy Fey. Simple as.
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-06-20 13:24:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I can't remember why I oned it, I suspect it hit close to some bone somewhere.
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2007-06-03 17:43:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Kirbage (user info) at 2005-11-25 13:17:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
My face = 6 inches behind my head.
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Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-11-25 12:51:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*cries a little*
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-05-26 17:31:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-03-30 02:36:58 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
-1 for a shitty title.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-03-30 02:36:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
seriously, the titles could be less formulaic.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-03-30 02:35:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
meh
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-03-30 02:24:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I thought I rated this already. Oh well.
Submitted by xanderd (user info) at 2006-03-17 07:13:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by xanderd (user info) at 2006-03-17 07:12:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
sorry, i hate breaking streaks, but I didnt enjoy this enough for a +2.
The tenses were a mix of pat and present, and some of the action seemed a bit displaced. The way the guy spoke got quite irritating and difficult to read after a while too.
But an excelent effort, call it 1.5!
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-17 06:42:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent. Really really excellent.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-11-25 13:32:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I still love Bickerstaff...
Submitted by Kirbage (user info) at 2005-11-25 13:17:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
My face = 6 inches behind my head.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-11-25 12:51:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*cries a little*
Submitted by mles76 (user info) at 2005-06-28 17:10:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Shaystar (user info) at 2005-06-24 11:45:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-06-24 11:04:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Just Wow.
That is all
Submitted by Jungle_Jimanee (user info) at 2005-06-24 10:36:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Christ realized I hadn't rated this.
Submitted by Adjomak (user info) at 2005-03-24 10:21:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Kicker of all ass. What else needs to be said?
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2005-03-04 11:11:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You need to get published.
Submitted by CoreaPeekay (user info) at 2005-02-16 00:58:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That just fucking kicked my ass. +2
Submitted by alwaysoutnumbered (user info) at 2005-02-16 00:42:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't know what to say man. Truly excellent writing.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-01-05 12:33:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2004-12-22 02:49:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2004-12-22 02:44:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn, the stuff you write is awesome.