And yet another true story:

          While attending Southeast Mo. State College, I drove a taxi on weekends. My shift was from 6 pm until 6 am on Friday and Saturday nights. As you can well imagine things could get a little goofy during those hours. I had every kind of customer and hauled every kind of product from booze to hookers with a fair share of just plain drunks in the mix. One night I picked up a huge black lady at the police station, who squeezed into the front seat with me. She was being turned lose, but she was still well tuned. A few blocks away she asked me for a cigarette, and I offered her one. It was not her brand! She pulled out a big old knife, scraped it across the dash, and said, “If you don’t give me a Winston, I’m gonna cut yo ^%*(#&**!ing *#(** off. I pulled into a gas station to get her some Winston’s and told the attendant to call the cops. They showed up almost immediately – a short black cop slapped her around pretty well while the white cop took my statement (this was a southern town in the 60s).

          My boss was mad enough to eat nails. He told me that he had to call in another driver to cover for me. He gave me a 32 pistol and told me to shoot the next one, but never ever under any circumstance call the cops. I often wondered, if I had to shoot someone wouldn’t I still have to call the cops?

 Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther – Cain

–  One Man Standing – Rubio   And now….Cain…just Cain

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