A man in a blue suit was stopped at the intersection of West 59th Street and East 57th Street in the East Village.
The traffic cop pulled over, but not before I told him I had a friend I wanted to talk to.
I asked him what I needed.
“I need a taxi,” he said, smiling, as I reached into my pocket and took out a credit card.
The traffic cop then handed me my $100 bill.
I handed him the bill and he thanked me for the taxi fare, and then he took my money and went back to his car.
The police officer told me he had not seen me for three days and was puzzled by my sudden change of location.
When I asked if he could help me find my friend, he told me to call the cops.
I thanked him and asked if I could walk with him.
He did not hesitate.
He got out of his car and walked me into the street.
“Get in the car,” he commanded.
I told myself I was going to be OK, but then he said to me, “We have a lot of traffic on West 59 and East 56th.”
He stopped me, put his hands on my hips and said, “Get out.”
He didn’t look at me as he did it, but instead pointed at a black car with a black stripe on the side.
I remember he said that the car was going the wrong way and was going 50 mph.
He pulled out a big revolver, looked at the car and said to it, “What are you doing?”
The black car’s driver was black, and his license plate was black.
He looked at me and said in a low voice, “You don’t know me, you don’t understand me.
Do you want to die?”
The driver of the black car stopped me again and told me that he had a good reason for doing this, that he didn’t want to get into a fight with the police officer, but he was afraid he was going too fast.
I said, ‘Well, I’m going to do what you want.’
He pulled out another revolver, pointed it at my head and said: “You are going to die, so what do you want?
Why are you pointing that gun at me?
Do you have a good job?”
I was shocked, but also scared.
The man had been arrested, but this wasn’t a simple arrest.
I had just driven a taxi in the same area of the city, and this was going on the very same street.
What kind of man was he?
I didn’t understand why he had to kill me to protect his car, but it was clear to me he didn�t know me well.
The driver told me the police had no reason to arrest him, that they had no jurisdiction here, and he would be free to leave.
I thought this was a crazy guy who had a bad attitude.
When I got out the car, I asked the man why he was stopping me.
He said he was a traffic cop and wanted to know if I was a passenger.
I told him that I was an Uber driver, and that I had not been involved in any of the attacks, and I wanted him to let me off.
He didn’t say anything about why I was in his car or why he wanted to arrest me.
I walked away.
Then I saw him again later, standing in the middle of the street with a gun pointed at me.
I don�t recall the words that came out of my mouth.
He grabbed me by my hair and put me in handcuffs, saying that if I didn�te cooperate he would shoot me.
When he got out, I walked out of the police station, not realizing that I hadn�t heard the officer say the words “get out.”
After the police released me, I had to find out why.
I did not know if the incident had happened because of my taxi ride or if I had been stopped by the police because I had pulled a gun.
A couple weeks later, I called a taxi company to report the incident, and a cab driver who knew me told me about the incident and asked me to help him find my friends.
After I told the driver about the story, he said he would take me to the hospital for an evaluation and was willing to pay me $500.
I didn�trick him.
I was angry at him.
I wasn�t going to pay him the money because I did what he wanted.
I would rather be on the streets than pay him $500 for the treatment.
I decided to call my lawyer and contact the police department.
I spoke to a woman who lives in the neighborhood and who had heard about the shooting and was shocked that someone could shoot a taxi driver without ever being accused of a crime.
I asked her to speak to the police and they took her call.
The woman told me she had no idea about the crime, but she would be