The Kind of Girl Who … calls the cops on yo' crazy ass

by That Kind of Girl on November 13, 2009

NTKOG #60: The kind of vigilant, Big Brother loving citizen who takes it upon herself to flood the city streets with the beacon of justice. JUSTICE!

I am: only like 93% law abiding, at best, and I’m okay with you being on either side of that line. It’s cool, guys. Unless you’re opening fire on a Wendy’s or something, it’s none of my dang business.

I am not: especially civic-minded, it transpires.

The Scene: Corner of Harvard Ave. and Commonwealth, waiting for a bus to Cambridge. A few seconds after the pedestrian walk light turns off, a lady — late forties, thigh-length blue down coat, wearing eyeglasses and carrying a purse, very normal — starts to walk across the street. The light turns green as she passes the centermost of the two lanes on our side of the street, and the car nudges eagerly forward as she passes. Clearly the driver’s assholic way of shouting: “Get off the road, bitch!” I think most of us have been there, and we’ll shout “nice driving, jerkwad” or flick the driver off and keep jogging across the street, dreaming of a world in which we could really just let that fucker have it.

Well this lady was no mere dreamer. She stood square in front of the car and bellowed: “Fuck you! You wanna hit me! Then fucking hit me! Come on!” Keep in mind the light is green and cars are driving normally in the next lane over. She stands in front of the car, shouting non-stop for one or two minutes — a full light cycle. Sometimes the car will try to merge around her into the next lane, and she darts in front of it to stop it again.

The lady stands there during the whole red light too, and during the next light cycle (“Fuck you! Hit me! Come on, I want you to do it!”), and even after the car that has so offended her manages to get into the next lane and leave, she still stands in the middle of the street, arms outstretched like a Christ figure, screaming

“Come on, you assholes, if you’re in such a hurry why don’t you just KILL ME?!”

She seemed like a normal woman, is the scariest thing. Just a normal woman who was having a really crappy day and then fucking snapped. I mean, how many days of my life have I thought to myself: “fuck i’m just going to start primal screaming right now and not stop until everybody in the world joins in?” And how many days have I felt I was actually close to doing it? This lady did it.

And while usually I would have ignored this or laughed about it while feeling a tingle of awe, today I put on my civic-duty hat, looked at the half-mile line of traffic around her and the feline way she was throwing herself in front of cars, and I took out my cell and called the cops. I elevator-pitched the situation and was transferred to the Allston/Brighton dispatcher.

Police Dispatcher: Boston Police. What’s your emergency?
TKOG: It’s not an emergency exactly. There’s a really upset pedestrian on Comm Ave and Brighton standing in traffic, darting in front of cars, and I think it’s an all-around dangerous situation. She seems unbalanced. It’s sad.
PD: Can you describe the woman?
TKOG: Oh, yeah, uh, she’s in her maybe late 40s, and–
PD: Is she black?
TKOG: What?!
PD: Is she black? Is she a black woman?
TKOG: She’s not, no.
PD: Hispanic?
TKOG: Jesus, she’s white!
PD: She homeless?
TKOG: She has a purse and eye glasses.
PD: Drunk? Drugs? What kind of drugs would you say she’s on? Coke, crack, heroin?
TKOG: …she’s like 5’8″ and wearing a big blue coat and eyeglasses and if you have any trouble finding her, she’s the one standing in the middle of the intersection screaming at cars.

The police officer then twirled his mustaches on the other ender of the phone and gloated, “Welllll, she doesn’t sound like a very productive citizen. We’ll take care of her.” Um. Yeah. I’ll bet you will. By the time my bus got there a few moments later, the woman was still standing, arms outstretched, her features contorted with rage. I contemplated sticking around to see the police apprehend her, but she looked powerful this way, and I didn’t want to see her taken down.

The Verdict: Um, so it is kosher to say that I hate the police? What the balls, guys? The quoted conversation should perhaps speak for itself, but oh, I wish you could have heard the glee and anticipation in his voice as he asked me (no, not once, not twice…) whether she was black. Jesus.

That said, I don’t feel as big a jerk as I thought I would about being partially responsible for sending someone to jail. I’m all for staying out of other people’s problems, but she had backed up traffic out of sight, she kept darting in front of cars, all the drivers kept getting angrier and angrier — it was a fraught situation, and I truly believe she was in danger. Plus, when I got off the phone I realized a nearby man was also on the phone with the police, which made me feel a bit better. Safety in numbers, y’know?

{ 2 trackbacks }

Crosswalk Jesus : allston city limits
November 13, 2009 at 11:59 am
TKOG Who makes your bedroom behavior her business
June 25, 2010 at 7:32 am

{ 23 comments… read them below or add one }

writerdood November 13, 2009 at 11:55 am

Great post.

You know, once I did something similar, except I was in my car. That takes considerably less guts, of course, even though you still know you’re going to get in trouble for blocking in all the assholes behind you at a light. Still, there are times, you know…? I hope the original driver that sent her off had a crappy day after that.

I hate traffic.

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wolfshowl November 13, 2009 at 12:01 pm

“she doesn’t sound like a very productive citizen”? Wow. I didn’t think people talked like that outside of dystopian novels.

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Ken O November 13, 2009 at 12:20 pm

I totally get where you’re coming from, and I’d say you acted (consiously[sp] or otherwise) from concern for her safety.

I also see why the cops would want to know what she looked like, and whether or not you thought she was slaughtered, to help gauge their response!

Incidentally, I first thought this was going along the lines of “Taxi Driver”, Hey, I’m walking here!!

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That Kind of Girl November 13, 2009 at 12:40 pm

YES! Taxi Driver was the first thing that came to my mind too!

And I definitely understand why they do need to know things like race to help identify the woman, but the more standard question is: “Is the suspect black, white or hispanic?” My problem was that they zoomed in so immediately on assuming she was just black.

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Muscles November 13, 2009 at 12:31 pm

She was probably just so high that she “looked” white and not homeless. The higher you get, the whiter you look. The Boston Police know this, but you don’t since you’ve been white all your life…

Obviously.

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Mom November 13, 2009 at 1:33 pm

Dear: Please walk into the street only when the WALK sign appears. How did the kind officer know you could identify someone on coke, crack or heroin? Did you NOT tell him that we did not allow you to participate in the DARE program? Your cell
is for calling 911, but only when you NEED 911. In cases like the upset lady: just look down and walk pass her quickly. That’s the correct response.

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Tricia November 13, 2009 at 1:34 pm

Wow . . . I can definitely relate. And you know, this would be the perfect kind of thing to write about in my new column. I’ll have to be on the lookout for these kinds of people . . .
But, oh wait, we audit the City down here and I love being down at City Hall this time of the year (yes, I can talk about it ‘cuz it’s public record) because Wednesdays are court day. Which means at 4 PM when I’m walking down from upstairs where they cram me into a small storage room to do my work, I am pushing myself past the hundreds of people being seen that day. It’s also crazy to see the increase in people from this year from last . . . wow . . . wow, wow wow . . .

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Rebel Mel November 13, 2009 at 2:33 pm

Ha. Some people, man.

I actually nearly died at this intersection, once. One car, on harvard ave, facing Brookline, the other on harvard facing Allston. I waited for the walk” light to flash, and not only did one of these cars run the red light, but they both did. Both attempting to turn left, too. They smashed right into eachother.. I think I may have told you about this one already.

But, yes, last year I realized that the cops in Boston are highly unprofessional. I know more about being a cop from all the Law and Order that I watch.

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Bri November 13, 2009 at 2:46 pm

umm…I call the po-po. ;]
I called them when the electricity meter reader walked in the yard without me knowing. I was home alone, forgive me.

I called the police for a store that didn’t want the give me a refund for an item i bought and returned the next day. Untouched. Lady told me she needed to call the supplier.

I call the police when the music is too loud, too late.

I’m a cranky old lady apparently.:]

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Paula November 13, 2009 at 2:59 pm

I can’t believe they asked if she was black straight off like that! That’s outrageous!

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Zstep November 13, 2009 at 3:18 pm

I thought black people acted like that all the time. Honestly, the police dispatcher had every right to assume that.

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Zstep November 13, 2009 at 3:36 pm

Sarcasm, BTW

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ali November 13, 2009 at 3:36 pm

I hate that intersection and I think it’s an annoying place to cross the street (I should know, I used to live right there) but that behavior is insane. Same goes for the cops, though. They’re especially annoying in (that part of?) Boston.

As someone who’s called the cops before in a not-at-all-similar-but-not-entirely-sure-what-to-do-situation, I think I can relate. You pay for the police, might as well use ‘em.

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Evening Sketches November 13, 2009 at 5:29 pm

NTKOG,

I’ve been lurking/stalking you for several months, but with the recent slew of brilliant posts I have finally mustered enough courage to express my appreciation for what you do. I won’t go on and on and on about your brilliance, but I think you’re pretty awesome, especially this new upstanding citizen side of you ;)

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mysterg November 13, 2009 at 6:19 pm

You’re thinking of the ad-libbed scene with Dustin Hoffman in Midnight Cowboy not Taxi Driver…

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That Kind of Girl November 13, 2009 at 10:42 pm

Interesting. I saw the Taxi Driver connection residing mostly in an apparently normal person having deep undercurrents of anger and TOTALLY SNAPPING. I’m not actually familiar with the “Hey, I’m walking here!” quote.

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Crimson Rose November 15, 2009 at 12:37 am
Matt November 13, 2009 at 8:30 pm

In a congested city of cars, bicycles and pedestrians we have to be governed by rules. Just as I hate people in their cars that block the box I hate pedestrians that dart into traffic like suicidal lemmings. They create dangerous situations for themselves and others and generally delay everyone due to their own selfish need to get across the street.

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nikki November 13, 2009 at 8:37 pm

Similar thing happened to my friend in DC. She witnessed a house getting broken in to, called the cops and she kept describing the guy as a tall WHITE guy and they insisted on saying it was a black guy. What the fuck.

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chiefy November 13, 2009 at 9:36 pm

I would complain about that police officer. Really? Racism like that should not be allowed. Ever.

Muscles’ comment made me laugh. Good one, yo.

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Rebecca November 13, 2009 at 9:40 pm

I have similar desires… not necessarily when I’m crossing the road but when I’m stuck in traffic that goes 15-25 under the speed limit. All the time. I want to lay on the horn. For 5 minutes. Because what’s waiting at the top of the congestion? The reason? There isn’t one, there’s no change but all of a sudden cars go faster.

Love your blog, btw

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Alice November 14, 2009 at 3:46 pm

wow, that poor woman. and, you know, all the people in line who couldn’t get by her. i wonder what happened when the cops got there and couldn’t find the crazy black woman in the street, and just some perfectly ignore-able white lady trying to cross the street…

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scribbler50 November 15, 2009 at 12:55 pm

You definitely did the right thing, calling 911. And you were also right to be jarred by “Is she black?” right out of the blocks. Strange way to start in. I had a similar situation a couple weeks ago at the bar (a once-a-decade occasion for us) where I had to call the cops when some wacko attacked the manager and split his head open. I called 911 and spent more time answering questions (often seemingly redundant ones) than it actually took for the cops to get to the scene. I realize these dispatchers are being recorded so they have to cover all the bases and make sure it’s not a crank call, but it gets ridiculous. I felt less like I was being questioned than I was interrogated!
And ditto: How in the Christ can you discern what drug (if any) that woman was on. Doubly ridiculous.
Great post!

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