Here you go
Here’s my story, sad but true
It’s about a girl that I once blew
She took me in her hand then turned around
I bent her over and began to pound
The first time I met “Hopalong Sue” was inside the 7-Eleven during the second half of a long midnight shift. Sue was also on steady midnight shifts driving a cab and had wandered into the &-Eleven seeking a caffeinated beverage and some go-go taquitos. I was walking out of the back storage area where the employee bathrooms and extra stock magazines are located.
The back storage room offers a little bit of a respite from the mutants wondering in and out of the 7-Eleven, as it was the only store open 24 hours in the downtown area. If you stand out near the coffee station, someone unpleasant is going to engage you in a conversation. They may ask you for relationship advice regarding their cat, or start asking a hypothetical situation with “Supposing a fellow did this ….” And then you are stuck in that conversation as you pray for some horrible emergency to occur just so you can grab your radio and escape the sour milk vapor that is their breath. Hell, any radio traffic, I don’t care, I will answer another unit’s call, or at least pretend it is my call-but then you have to leave the store which is impossible if your partner is in the back taking a power dump-which was usually the case.
So I found it easier to either stay in the car, or hang out in the back until my partner was done with whatever it was that he did in that bathroom. Having grown tired with celebrity smut magazines(gossip) and actual smut magazines, I decide to go for some fresh air. I rounded the corner and looking straight ahead and not staring down at my feet, I did not see the young woman bent over retrieving something she had dropped on the floor. There was a collision, and I still maintain it was my gun belt that drove the woman to the floor, but there are varying accounts.
I quickly rush to her aid, helping her up, asking if she is alright, and our eyes meet. Well, sort of. Her right eye stares deep into my soul while her left eye is staring somewhere ten feet off to my right. I try to help her to her feet, pulling a little too hard when she does not quite reach the approximate height I think she should reach. I then realize that I am almost pulling her off of the ground.
Hovering around 3 ½ feet, Sue is looking up at me with a sweet, but dumb expression on her face. I again apologize for knocking her to the ground, offering that I should watch where I was going and I did not see, nor expect her at the approximate height of a corgi. She shakes her head and smiles and says it was her fault for not wearing bells, or something to that effect. She then says that she has never seen me before, am I “new on the force?” I tell her that I had been on for about almost two years at that point, trying to hide the hurt that comes with people always assuming I am a rookie.
She then asks my name, and I inform her “I am Officer…” Before I can finish, my partner yells “Pickles, his name is Pickles!” which was a nickname with zero relevance that just sorta stuck, and continues to this day. She giggles and says that she loves pickles, adding that she is sure I am a sweet pickle. The diminutive lady then says “Well, Pickles-my name is Sue, and you bumping into me like that, has made my night.” Again, I apologize for tripping over her, and I head in the direction of the coffee.
As I walk, I hear a “clip clop, clip clop, clip clop, clip clop” behind me and turn to see Sue hobbling after me, her one leg several noticeable inches longer than the other. She is giggling, trying to keep up like this is some fun new game. She starts a rapid fire barrage of questions “Where did I grow up/go to school/where do I live/Am I married(not yet).” I answer some of the questions, trying to pretend to not notice the way she is smiling at me, almost as if she is flirting with me. She has a twinkle in the eye that looks straight ahead, and although I would have to take two steps to see the other eye, I am pretty sure there is a twinkle there as well. Oh shit, she is flirting with me.
I try to take a step toward the door for each question I answer, staring into my coffee as if there was something of extreme importance about to happen inside the cup that I was not going to miss. But the problem is that while staring down into my coffee, I am almost making eye contact with the wonky eye. I can see that she is still smiling very intensely, laughing at almost anything I say. I tell her it was nice to meet her, and that I need to get back on patrol.
She then asks what time I get done and I tell her 0600 hrs, which is still 2 hours away. She then asks if I would like to come back to her place with her. Before I can politely decline, she adds that she has a swing. I think that’s great, all kids should have swing, but I don’t think she means that kind of swing. To completely drive that point home, she adds “a sex swing, and I have a lot of dirty movies, and plenty of beer.” I pause, being reminded of that scene in fight club when poor Chloe, dying of cancer, tries to entice a man to have sex with her just one last time? She says she has lubricating oils and dirty movies to sweeten the deal, but sadly, for poor Chloe, there are no takers.
Now, don’t get me wrong here. Despite the eyes set apart like some grazing animal alert for predators, Sue is not entirely unattractive. She looks a bit like Holly Hunter, albeit a “mini me” version. And there is the whole height issue and my monogamous relationship, but what really kills the mood is my partner seeming to convulse on a rack of potato chips. I look over in alarm, only to discover that the potato chips are holding him up because he is laughing so hard. There are tears streaming down his cheeks and he is waving me on, trying to shout in a whispering voice “Go on, I’ll cover for ya-just go, do it, do it!”
The snack rack does not hold and my partner falls into the aisle, dragging a couple bags of chips with him, no longer laughing quietly. I am trying to keep a straight face because I know that Sue is still looking up at me with a hopeful expression. I am speechless. I have no idea what to say to her, so she fills the silence by naming the movies she has at home.
As each title is rattled off, my partner releases a guffaw from the next aisle while Sue prattles on, oblivious. “Dirty College Girls 6; Headmaster’s performance list” “Backdoor Surprise” “Remember the Tight Ones” “Clitty Clitty Gang Bang” “Glad he ate her.”
I just kind of stand there, mouth agape, waiting for her to stop, to see the expression on my face and realize that there is no chance I am watching those movies again. I just shake my head and tell her “No, sorry-I gotta go” then certain she is going to grab onto my leg, I start to half jog to the front door, then out to the car. I go to get in the passenger seat, but the doors are locked. I turn to look back to the store to find my partner, but see that she has made it out the door and is standing only a few feet away. I shrink back, thinking we really do need to get some bells on her.
I walk around the rear of the cruiser, knowing she is still hopping along after me. I head back inside the store, hoping the curb will slow her down enough so I can grab the keys from my partner, who now has pulled himself up using the potato chip stand. He also has an arm full of bags, placing them back on the rack. I tell him to give me the keys so I can get in the car, or ask if we can get the fuck out of here. This just elicits more chuckles, so I seek refuge in the back room.
To my horror, I see Sue hobbling after me with a maniacal smile, one eye staring at me, the other eye watching behind her. I shriek and retreat further into the narrow hallway towards the manager’s office. I then hear the radio key up, and my partner’s voice calling for a unit to meet at 7-eleven, there is something they will want to see.
Within a few minutes, there is another two officers inside the store, and I can hear laughing and then I hear one of the officers tell someone, I already know who, to “go ahead back there, he is waiting for you.” By this point, I am done with this. I am not going to hide in the bathroom, which is the only place left to go.
I turn the corner and just like the first time we met, there is a collision between me and Sue, only this time my gun belt almost goes into her mouth. She goes down again, but this time I don’t stop. She gets up as quick as she can, and tries to run after me, but with legs vastly different lengths, she mostly just runs in a circle. I pause long enough to say “Fuck you, guys. You are all horrible people” then I exit the store to a chorus of laughter and walk the block back to HQ to get away from Sue.
I got picked on a bit about Hopalong Sue, but there were some of the usual loud mouths that were weirdly quiet on the whole issue. I was then informed that there were a few(mostly older guys and drunks) that had on occasion, called for a taxi after a night of drinking. Usually, we just call a cruiser for a ride, but if one is unavailable, the cab drivers all know us and will give us a ride. Well, on some of those occasions, it was Sue who responded to pick the officers up from the bar, and inside she got the ride.
Old Sue became a bit of an alcoholic, and drank herself out of her cabbie job. She became somewhat of a street hooker that worked out of a shitty bar next to 7-Eleven. The last time I saw her about 4 years ago, she was missing more than a few teeth, mostly on the bottom, giving her a bull-doggish appearance. Sue recently drank herself to death, and died ironically, in the back of a cab while getting a ride home from the bar.
