She gives me a nearby address. As I drive, it comes out that we’re on the way to her boyfriend’s apartment to pick up her purse. I tell her that this is an extremely bad idea, that I’ll happily give her a free ride absolutely anywhere, she shouldn’t be worried about getting her purse to pay me. She insists that she needs her keys, and against all better judgment, I acquiesce.
We pull into the parking lot, and
the boyfriend’s waiting. I note with some satisfaction that his face looks a lot worse than hers, and stand by with clenched fists as she negotiates the release of the purse. We get rolling again, and she tells me about how he’d wanted her to fuck another guy while he watched. She’d refused, he’d punched her, she’d punched him back. Only she was wearing a big ring.
After a few minutes, she asks if there’s a white 4-Runner behind us. There is, and she has me make some quick turns. We lose it, and I get her to her parents’ place. I give her my contact information in case she decides to press charges, but never hear back.
Nothing, you already told her twice.
"I love him."
I drove her straight to the ER, against all of the protests, and would not take money. It amazes me how many people, including many men, stay in relationships with physically abusive partners against all common sense. Not talking shoves or slaps here, but full-on punches and kicks.
How terribly lost and sad this place can be...
Portland cabbies, keep on keepin' on. I've witnessed (and experienced) acts of random kindness in Portland cabs. When something is fucked up and you see it, and you ask, "Why isn't God watching this shit and fixing it?", the answer is, "But you're there, and watching it. Fix it. Do something, in the name of God."
Although I miss the former NC, I'm glad WW kept this column going. And the new NC hasn't disappointed so far...