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Friday, December 19, 2008


This must be how paranoid crackheads must feel.

Pushing hack one night I noted that the police were out in force on the southside of town. Good, I thought. This part of town could use some patrolling.

Later, I noted that the police seemed to be out in force on the west end of town. Hmmmm, I thought, something must be up. They are canvassing the usually uneventful west end.

Still later, I noted that cops seemed to be everywhere.

Wait a minute..... all these cops seem to be following me.

Yeah. They're following me.

There's another cop. He's waiting at that intersection.... he waited too long... he waited for me to pass and fell in behind me.... what is going on?

What the hell is that car following me? No lights, but it has an unusual number of antennas.

What? I now have two cops following me... a trooper and a city cop?

And again, cops in my rear view mirror.

And again.

This is too weird.

Fifteen years ago I owned a late 70s model, grey Cadillac. One night I had the distinct feeling that cops were following me. Turns out they were. The lead item in the news the next day was that the police were looking for a late 70s model, grey Lincoln involved in a hit and run that resulted in a death.

I was kinda getting freaked out. I hadn't done a damn thing, but I know from experience that doesn't stop someone from making outrageous claims. A couple frustrating trips from passengers at a couple different crack houses (which is normally just to be expected) coupled with the feeling I was being followed was enough to push me over the edge. I decided to go home early that night. Very early. I still had five hours left in a twelve hour shift.

On my way home I noted a bunch of cops swarming a car. A half dozen cop cars had this guy surrounded. The car was a civilian owned, police interceptor, with the same color scheme as our taxis. For the record many of our cabs are second hand police interceptors with the driver side spotlight and specialty-push-bumper still attached.

Sumanabitch. I bet they were following me. Swarming a car that fit the description of my taxi except for the company logo right down to the police-push bumper and a spotlight? Nothing in the following day's newspaper, though.

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