Somebody Call 911

I had just moved into my new apartment in the financial district in downtown NYC and had a new roommate, V, who like me was in search of a job and of course, love. She had mentioned that she knew a really cute guy from the Bronx who she thought I would hit it off with. Lets call him Officer Krupke. My first impression of Officer Krupke was that he was the epitome of an Italian stereotype with his white wifebeater tank, gold chain and lots of gel. He was from a prominent police officer family and was in cadet school. His first line to me? “You’re hot, are you Italian? I can really only date Italian women.” From that moment on I wrote him off as a future husband, but wanted to have fun. We danced, he bought me drinks and he was somewhat charming.
I had five dollars in my pocket, which would get me halfway home, and it was too dangerous to ride the subway alone and V had taken off with his friend. He insisted on driving me home in his pimped out Honda Civic with wings. We hopped in the car and I buckled my seat belt. He started kissing me and right away he grabs my head and pushes it down to his lap as if I would do that with this chain-wearing idiot on our first date. I pulled my head back up and told him to drive me home cause I most certainly was not going anywhere near his gun. He kept trying and I kept saying no. Next thing I know he was “servicing himself” and saying how beautiful I was — ick. I know I should have gotten out of the car, but I was paralyzed and in shock. In about 37 seconds he relieved himself all over his shirt. I told him to drive me the F home. He didn’t even pull his pants up before he started the ignition.
We turned the corner to head downtown and the jackass must have been too euphoric to notice the cab in front of us. Next thing I know we rear-end the cab, airbags come popping out and a homeless man comes running over to the car and pulls me out. Officer Krupke was buckling his pants as the cops arrived. A normal cop walked over, asks if I am ok and tells me I can leave, hands me 10 bucks and I hop in another cab hoping to not remember this night ever again. Officer Krupke called me the next day to tell me he had a really great time last night.


