This was late summer of ninety-six. I was going to the Brooklyn Public Library in Camden Plaza—the biggest library in Brooklyn. I was visiting my mother in Prospect Park Brooklyn. It was late afternoon—the sun was falling but it wasn’t dark yet. As always, I was drug free. Back then I didn’t drink during the week and it was Wednesday.

This was a two lane road that would change to a one lane road with a parking lane during certain times of day. This was at that time of day. So I’m driving along and this Honda Accord is trying to pass me, riding my ass. I keep driving. Then he pulls past me in the oncoming lane and speeds up, swerving in and out of oncoming traffic. I figured he’s a Jamaican guy, because that’s how they drive.

He jets right in front of me and pulls to a stop parallel to me so I can’t pull out—it’s backed up behind me—or even get out. My door is pinned. The window is part-way down.

He gets out of the car and he’s this big three hundred pound black dude in a three piece red track suit. He was a big dude. I found out years later when I was training Jujitsu with one of my friends—who was a cop and knew him—that this dude was a pro wrestler at some point. This dude was intimidating and I can't get out, but he’s putting his hand in my car, in my face, so I grab this tire iron that I keep under the seat.

I was like, “Oh, fuck!”

He’s got his big hand in my face and cussed me, so I cocked back with the tire iron. He backs up and says, “Oh, muthafucka you flexin’ on me!” and pulls out an NYPD badge.

I know what to look for, what the NYPD badge looks like. Because there are lots of dudes in New York who flash badges to try and get over on you—even sanitation workers and corrections officers—fuckin’ prison guards walkin’ the streets with guns.

I dropped it and he said, “Open the fuckin’ window all the way you fuckin’ little white bitch! You fuckin’ want me to run you in, bitch?”

I said, “All right, officer. I dropped it. I’m sorry. What can I do?”

He was an undercover detective and said, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with out here, you fuckin’ little white bitch!”

I was submissive but angry and said, over and over again, “You’re a cop. There is nothing I can do.”

He says, “That’s right, white bitch,” his big hand right in my face, his finger pointed at my eye.

I said, “You are a cop so I have to take this shit.”

I wanted to get out of this, didn’t want to get locked up. Some giant maniac who is a cop? What the hell do you do but take it? You raise a finger and the entire NYPD is standing on your neck.

He said, “You look out, ‘cause this is where I’m at!” indicating that the area was part of his territory.

He got back in his car. The people were complaining behind us, but not too loudly with this guy.

About seven years later there was a police shooting in East Flatbush. This big black cop and another undercover detective were talking to this homeboy, who grabs his gun, shoots him dead, and then shoots his partner, a white Irish cop, who shoots him in return. Both cops die at the scene. Then this dumbass runs to his girlfriend’s house and is knocking on the door, bleeding. She asked him why he was bleeding and the dumbass says, “I shot a cop.” and she was like, “You stupid mother fucker, stay out there. I’m not going to be an accessory to your stupid shit!”

When I saw the story and saw this cop's face—I immediately recognized him. You don’t forget a face like that. When I saw that he had been killed, I was like “Yeah, that’s what you get.”

Eventually, being an asshole to people comes back on you. He’s not the only cop who fucked with me who came to a bad end. I have often wondered if there’s a curse on me or something. There is this one redheaded female cop, who I hope gets hers. But that’s another story. The cops are just so messed up in the head—their entire job is like a psychological horror film. My cop friend—the guy I met in Jujitsu—he told me, that to them, this cop was a good dude, that he was a good cop.

I said to my friend, “Hey, he might have been a cool cop, but he was a dick to me.”

He just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Forget it, he got sloppy and now he’s dead.”