"Where do you buy your gas?"
"From a gas station, just like everyone."
"You don't buy it from Obama...Osama?"
"Well, I guess it comes from the Middle East."
"And Israel, you know Israel's over there."
"Yeah, it is....so where am I taking you."
"Capitol Hill"
Silence for about ten minutes, at first I was totally freaking out, but I am starting to realize that she is way too out of her brains to get the drop on me. There's no way she could pull a gun on me before I noticed and stopped her. Although she did reach into her pocket a few times, but she was just grabbing chap stick, so I started to relax a little and think she was just crazy drunk and was trying to get a ride home. Then the conversation continued as I neared downtown:
"OK, we are getting closer to Capitol Hill, where exactly am I going?"
"Take me to Colfax."
"Colfax and what?"
"Colfax and Saturday's, I need to go there and smoke some bi***es and take their money and coke."
HOLY CRAP, now I am freaking out again. But I am still confident that she can not possibly be coherent enough to actually try to hurt me without me seeing it coming. Especially seeing as how, even if sober, in a sitting position it was difficult to retrieve any sort of weapon out of her pockets.
"No, I am not going to take you there."
(muttering incoherently)
"I am going to take you home, you need to sober up."
"No, take me to Capitol Hill, my son was born there, I want to go to Capitol Hill, I just need to beat up these bi***es and take their money so I can score some coke."
"I am not going to do that."
At this point I get off the highway at the 23rd St. exit and she starts yelling, "Get back on the highway, go straight, go straight now, I want to go to Capitol Hill."
"No, I am taking you back, I am taking you home, where is your home? Where is your son? That is where I am taking you."
I turn around and get back on I-25N going back towards Broomfield, now she reaches into her pocket again and I tense up, I am ready to act, violently, if need be. But she pulls her driver's license out of the pocket and hands it to me!
I read the address, 6568 Harlan St. Arvada. Let me give you some context; I had just left the house, no cell phone, just my wallet and keys to grab some dinner, I'm not even wearing shoes, so I am wondering how in the world I am going to find this place when I feel pretty confident there is no way she can give me directions. I exit at I-70 and start heading West to Arvada.
"Do I get off at Pecos..."
"Yeah Pecos."
"Or Federal?"
"Yeah Federal."
"OK, I am going to get off at Federal."
"No, I am not going to take you there."
(muttering incoherently)
"I am going to take you home, you need to sober up."
"No, take me to Capitol Hill, my son was born there, I want to go to Capitol Hill, I just need to beat up these bi***es and take their money so I can score some coke."
"I am not going to do that."
At this point I get off the highway at the 23rd St. exit and she starts yelling, "Get back on the highway, go straight, go straight now, I want to go to Capitol Hill."
"No, I am taking you back, I am taking you home, where is your home? Where is your son? That is where I am taking you."
I turn around and get back on I-25N going back towards Broomfield, now she reaches into her pocket again and I tense up, I am ready to act, violently, if need be. But she pulls her driver's license out of the pocket and hands it to me!
I read the address, 6568 Harlan St. Arvada. Let me give you some context; I had just left the house, no cell phone, just my wallet and keys to grab some dinner, I'm not even wearing shoes, so I am wondering how in the world I am going to find this place when I feel pretty confident there is no way she can give me directions. I exit at I-70 and start heading West to Arvada.
"Do I get off at Pecos..."
"Yeah Pecos."
"Or Federal?"
"Yeah Federal."
"OK, I am going to get off at Federal."
Silence...I get off at Federal and start driving North. As I get closer to 65th Ave I speak up again.
"What cross streets do you live at?"
"Go to 72nd."
"Your address says 65th, is that not the right address?"
"Go to 72nd."
I am now concerned that she is taking me somewhere else where she has intentions of "smoking some bi***es and scoring some coke" so I just turn West on 64th and hope that Harlan is West of Federal. As I am looking at every street sign for Harlan she tells me to turn North on Nichols St. I do, hoping that maybe she knows we are close to her home. As we drive down Nichols she looks at every house and starts muttering, "No, not it, not it, f***ing garages, f***ing whores, Whoa! Red light! Red light district! A whore lives there! Not it, not it..."
I am worried again that she is looking for a house to rob or whatever so I ignore her directions again and keep driving. I start heading back East on 65th until I get to Pecos. At which point I see a Sheriff's car driving towards us, I flash my lights at him and he just keeps driving. I am thinking about turning around but now another car is coming, and to my relief I notice lights on the roof. I stick my hand out the window and start waving frantically trying to get his attention. He slows down to turn on to 65th and I am thinking, "I'm saved! He can take this woman to detox and get me out of here!" But he just turns and keeps driving down the road! I am so disgusted I can't believe it! I turn around and start flying down 65th to catch up. The speed limit is 30, and this cop is doing at least 50, which means I'm doing 60 to catch up while flashing my lights at him. The woman sitting next to me just keeps saying "slow down, man, slow down." To which I reply, "I think this man can help us, I am trying to catch up to him." So the cop keeps flying down the road and I swear he is speeding up and blows through the light at Federal at which I stop, dejected, and freaking out.
Woman: "Go right here, go to 72nd."
I am still convinced 72nd, is where more trouble lies. "No, we are going to Harlan and 65th, that is where your home is."
"No, go to 72nd, I live there."
Seeing as how my license says I still live at my parent's house I think it's likely that she has moved. And while praying dearly to the Lord for guidance (I had been praying the whole time of course) I start to follow her directions. She leads me to 65th and Sheridan and tells me to turn right, which I do. Down the road a little she spots a Taco Bell and yells, "I want a taco! Get me a taco!" I pull into the Taco Bell, "I want a taco, but I want it flat, like a tostada, get me a tostada!"
"OK, I will get you a tostada."
I pull up to the drive thru and order a tostada, and we are on our way again. Did I mention that this whole time she is drinking the coke that I got from McDonald's? Because she is, and she keeps telling me it is salty and muttering Obama. I swear she would grab my coke, take a sip, say it was salty, and mutter "Obama" and sometimes, "Obama...Osama." I get to 72nd at which point she directs me to head back East.
"Where are we going exactly"
"72nd and Federal."
"OK."
"What cross streets do you live at?"
"Go to 72nd."
"Your address says 65th, is that not the right address?"
"Go to 72nd."
I am now concerned that she is taking me somewhere else where she has intentions of "smoking some bi***es and scoring some coke" so I just turn West on 64th and hope that Harlan is West of Federal. As I am looking at every street sign for Harlan she tells me to turn North on Nichols St. I do, hoping that maybe she knows we are close to her home. As we drive down Nichols she looks at every house and starts muttering, "No, not it, not it, f***ing garages, f***ing whores, Whoa! Red light! Red light district! A whore lives there! Not it, not it..."
I am worried again that she is looking for a house to rob or whatever so I ignore her directions again and keep driving. I start heading back East on 65th until I get to Pecos. At which point I see a Sheriff's car driving towards us, I flash my lights at him and he just keeps driving. I am thinking about turning around but now another car is coming, and to my relief I notice lights on the roof. I stick my hand out the window and start waving frantically trying to get his attention. He slows down to turn on to 65th and I am thinking, "I'm saved! He can take this woman to detox and get me out of here!" But he just turns and keeps driving down the road! I am so disgusted I can't believe it! I turn around and start flying down 65th to catch up. The speed limit is 30, and this cop is doing at least 50, which means I'm doing 60 to catch up while flashing my lights at him. The woman sitting next to me just keeps saying "slow down, man, slow down." To which I reply, "I think this man can help us, I am trying to catch up to him." So the cop keeps flying down the road and I swear he is speeding up and blows through the light at Federal at which I stop, dejected, and freaking out.
Woman: "Go right here, go to 72nd."
I am still convinced 72nd, is where more trouble lies. "No, we are going to Harlan and 65th, that is where your home is."
"No, go to 72nd, I live there."
Seeing as how my license says I still live at my parent's house I think it's likely that she has moved. And while praying dearly to the Lord for guidance (I had been praying the whole time of course) I start to follow her directions. She leads me to 65th and Sheridan and tells me to turn right, which I do. Down the road a little she spots a Taco Bell and yells, "I want a taco! Get me a taco!" I pull into the Taco Bell, "I want a taco, but I want it flat, like a tostada, get me a tostada!"
"OK, I will get you a tostada."
I pull up to the drive thru and order a tostada, and we are on our way again. Did I mention that this whole time she is drinking the coke that I got from McDonald's? Because she is, and she keeps telling me it is salty and muttering Obama. I swear she would grab my coke, take a sip, say it was salty, and mutter "Obama" and sometimes, "Obama...Osama." I get to 72nd at which point she directs me to head back East.
"Where are we going exactly"
"72nd and Federal."
"OK."
About four blocks before Federal she says, "turn right at this light."
"You know this isn't Federal right?"
"Yes I know, I want you to come into my home. I want you to f*** me."
"I am not going to do that, I am just going to drop you off."
"OK drop me off and then get some coke and come back and f*** me."
"No, I am going to drop you off at your home."
I turn right at the light, which is not Federal and she says, "go straight to 69th."
"OK."
As we near 69th she instructs me to slow down in front of an apartment complex. I come to a stop and she instructs me to keep going and pull in to the parking lot.
"OK, this is where you live?"
"Yeah, park here and come f*** me, and we can do coke."
"No, I am dropping you off, go sober up and take care of your son."
"OK, hold on, I need to grab everything." At which point she starts picking up all the napkins and wrappers from her tostada and holds it up and says, "this is for you, all this is for you."
"Thank you."
As she is picking up napkins she notices and grabs my Bible to which I say, "no, that's my Bible, that isn't yours."
"What the f***!" She begins flipping through until she gets to my place mark. "Jeremiah, you are reading Jeremiah?"
"Yes, that is what I am reading."
"Who is Jeremiah?"
"He was a prophet."
"Of the heart, oh, yeah, a prophet of the heart. What did he say?"
"He said that the Israelites needed to repent of their sins or be destroyed."
"What the f***. Kiss me!"
"No, I am not going to kiss you."
"What, do you think I am dirty or something?" I see real rage in her eyes and start freaking out a little again.
"No, no, it's just that you are a complete stranger and I don't want to kiss you."
"What the f***, fine, whatever, so you aren't going to come back with coke to f*** me?"
"No, I am not."
"Fine, whatever."
At which point she exits my car (praise God!) and stumbles off towards the apartments. As soon as I start driving away I start freaking out again, praying and thanking God that nothing horrible happened. And praying that I really did drop her off at home and nothing horrible was about to happen. This whole ordeal took about two hours, but now I am home, and safe, and freaking out considerably less as I bring this story to a close. This has got to be, by far, the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me, and I just got back from a weekend in Vegas. I feel like God put her in my life for people to pray for her. Please do so, if you feel so led.
"You know this isn't Federal right?"
"Yes I know, I want you to come into my home. I want you to f*** me."
"I am not going to do that, I am just going to drop you off."
"OK drop me off and then get some coke and come back and f*** me."
"No, I am going to drop you off at your home."
I turn right at the light, which is not Federal and she says, "go straight to 69th."
"OK."
As we near 69th she instructs me to slow down in front of an apartment complex. I come to a stop and she instructs me to keep going and pull in to the parking lot.
"OK, this is where you live?"
"Yeah, park here and come f*** me, and we can do coke."
"No, I am dropping you off, go sober up and take care of your son."
"OK, hold on, I need to grab everything." At which point she starts picking up all the napkins and wrappers from her tostada and holds it up and says, "this is for you, all this is for you."
"Thank you."
As she is picking up napkins she notices and grabs my Bible to which I say, "no, that's my Bible, that isn't yours."
"What the f***!" She begins flipping through until she gets to my place mark. "Jeremiah, you are reading Jeremiah?"
"Yes, that is what I am reading."
"Who is Jeremiah?"
"He was a prophet."
"Of the heart, oh, yeah, a prophet of the heart. What did he say?"
"He said that the Israelites needed to repent of their sins or be destroyed."
"What the f***. Kiss me!"
"No, I am not going to kiss you."
"What, do you think I am dirty or something?" I see real rage in her eyes and start freaking out a little again.
"No, no, it's just that you are a complete stranger and I don't want to kiss you."
"What the f***, fine, whatever, so you aren't going to come back with coke to f*** me?"
"No, I am not."
"Fine, whatever."
At which point she exits my car (praise God!) and stumbles off towards the apartments. As soon as I start driving away I start freaking out again, praying and thanking God that nothing horrible happened. And praying that I really did drop her off at home and nothing horrible was about to happen. This whole ordeal took about two hours, but now I am home, and safe, and freaking out considerably less as I bring this story to a close. This has got to be, by far, the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me, and I just got back from a weekend in Vegas. I feel like God put her in my life for people to pray for her. Please do so, if you feel so led.
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