Don’t Piss Off or Piss On a Texas Woman

As a rideshare driver of almost seven years, I do not carry a gun — concealed or otherwise, not only because it is against company policy, but it is also against my own moral code. But I am not completely unprotected. I have some pepper spray and a baseball bat. I have never used the pepper spray, but I have used the bat. Yes, I most certainly have used the bat.

Now, I did not use it to bonk someone on the head, but to merely knock this one damn fool over and get him the fuck away from me.

It was an early Sunday morning back in 2014, and I really should not have been out. In hindsight, I realize that, but sometimes my foresight is not as clear as my hindsight, and I was trying to make a few extra bucks. A girl has got to pay her bills, right? I was in North Dallas in a fairly upscale neighborhood. A lovely area with many shops and trendy restaurants and gorgeous houses. Safe, right?

I got a call around 2:30 a.m. to pick someone up near a bunch of restaurants, so I figured it was a service worker going home and it would be an easy peasy short and squeezy kind of ride. WRONG.

Idrive up, get to the location, and I cannot find the passenger anywhere. I call him several times, text him, and there is no answer. I was getting ready to cancel when I see him hiding behind some pillar. Ut oh. He was not a pretty sight.

Unfortunately, he saw me also, so I could not bail.

I was new to rideshare at the time, and I now know better than to let someone in the front seat. No one is allowed in the front seat now. Nobody, no one, nobody. Not even my daddy. NO ONE! But this damn fool runs over and jumps in the front seat. I tell him to move to the back, but he is too trashed/strung out/drunk to understand me.

And obviously, something is seriously wrong with this dude. He is sweating and shaking, and the first thing he says is, “Do you have shrooms?” I replied “No, of course not. Do I look like I would have shrooms?”

I had started the ride at this point, and he was really Really REALLY focused on me selling him some shrooms. I just shook my head and drove on… Another night.

It was about a 20-minute drive to his destination on the east side of Plano — and not in the best area, but I figured I could get in and out quick. He has finally settled down and shut up about shrooms, but he is fidgeting and sweating next to me and I am getting very stressed out and nervous wishing with all my heart and soul that he was in the backseat instead of next to me. And then he bolts up and starts shouting that I am trying to kidnap him and taking him the opposite direction of where he needs to go. Yeah, I’m a 54-year-old grandma at the time, and I am going to kidnap some nutcase strung out on gawd knows what and do whatever to him. My stress level and blood pressure are rising.

I firmly (in my sternest “mom voice”) told him I was following GPS and taking him home. Then he starts getting surly asking me if I knew who is “father is.” Like WTF? I am taking him to a nasty ass apartment complex on the east side of Plano, and he pulls the ‘Do you know who my father is?” bullshit. I ignored him. But he would not shut up and started in on “shrooms” again.

Now, I am a patient woman, but at this point, I am done. I am so done with this fool. I told him if he did not stop talking, I was going to put him out of the side of the road. Truthfully, I think my words were more along the lines, “if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m kicking your ass out.” Well, unfortunately, that just triggered him.

There’s a 7–11 up ahead and I decide that I am going to drop him off there (for his safety) as opposed to the side of the road. In the shape he was in, I certainly did not want him wandering down the middle of the road and getting hit by another car.

I pull into the parking lot, reach over unlatch the door, and tell him to get the hell out of my car. I was so angry at this point and had had my hand on my bat.

He started to give me attitude (until he saw the bat), then begrudgingly got out of the car, AND THEN turned around, pulled his wiener out started to piss all over the passenger seat and ME! You cannot even imagine the level of angry my brain shot through. I was not frightened. I was not scared. But on a scale of 1–10 of being pissed off, I was probably at about 250.

I took the bat and rammed it with all my strength into his chest/sternum area causing him to fall backward, hitting his head on the pavement. I then hit the gas, with passenger car door was still wide open, and got as far as I could get away to the far side of the parking lot. I was not worried about him coming after me because he was rolling around on the ground holding his head at this point. And yes, the wiener was still out.

Then he went limp and stopped moving. At that point, I panicked that he was seriously injured and called the police, locked myself in my car, and waited. I kept the car running because I would have run his sorry ass over if he tried to come near me again. I did not know if he was unconscious, dead, or passed out.

The police arrived and ended up hauling his ass to jail for assault. Peeing on people is an assault, by the way. Fortunately, I did not have to go to court. I just had to make a statement.

So, the lesson is, do not simultaneously piss on and piss off a Texas woman because she will knock your ass out with a bat.

I went home, took a LONG shower, had a couple of shots of Jameson, and went to sleep. And you can be damned sure, I filed for a cleanup fee!