Just read a fight story on here, and was reminded of one of my own. Sorry for the book.
I'd just come on shift late at night at the casino job i was working, and i'm on all the way to the morning. I've been awake for about 30 minutes, and it's my Friday. I'm looking at the chair at the Security desk like it's just baked me a plate of cookies and wants to give me a rub down. One guy is getting off and leaving, and the other guy i'm on with for another couple hours. He gives me the run down on the nights events so far and where things stand in the casino. He shows me a picture of a guy and tells me he was kicked out about an hour ago, and that he was highly intoxicated. I'm looking at the picture and asking if we have his name. He tells me he doesn't think so, and l start checking our system to see if someone has ID'd someone with his description at some time. The guy is about 5'8" and a stalky 160lbs. I'm asking what happened and if there's an incident report on it or if we can expect any other paperwork coming down from the top. We're discussing it, and i look up at the security monitors and guess who is coming through the front door.
"Is this the guy, coming in now?"
"Yeah. I got this."
I was glad my partner took the lead on this one. I've literally been on the clock for 2 minutes.
"Hey! You know you can't be here. We've already been over this."
"I just want a drink!" he says
He initially wanted to blow by us but my partner was able to keep him calm enough to keep him from blowing up. My partner managed to trick him into giving up his ID so we can get his name. I don't remember exactly, but i think he got him to talk about his heritage (my partner was a pacific islander and so was the person in question) saying he didn't believe him and ask what his last name was, and then telling him he had to show him his ID to get him to believe it. I think he must have handed it off to me, and i put him in our ID scanner system because i remember having his ID in front of me. My partner negotiated that he would call him a cab if he waits for it outside. The drunk guy agrees and my partner goes to call a cab, giving me a significant look that clearly said "keep an eye on this one."
I sit back down in my chair, and the guy is not leaving. And worse, he's agitating. I'm sitting there straight up ignoring him, as he just talks and talks, but he wants trouble.
"Is this all you do? You just sit here doing nothing all day. You little bitch."
All i can do is sigh. I wasn't concerned with what he was saying. I've heard it all before. My concern was with his bodily behavior. Loose, unconcerned, and dangerous. This guy is spun on something other than alcohol, and I can see where this is going, so i get up to get rid of him. I just want to settle into that rub down from the sexy security chair until i fully wake up, but i've got to get rid of this guy first.
"Come on, let's go wait for your cab, it's on the way, you're going to want to be outside when it gets here."
He comes with me.
Just inside the front door we had kind of a foyer with a couple leather seats, a leather couch, side tables, and a glass top coffee table. He stops walking with me and sits at the couch. Now, i'm not totally against him waiting for his cab there, except i know i'm going to have to babysit him if he does, and i don't want to have to do that. Especially because he's already been kicked out and isn't supposed to be on the property at all. Period. I can understand my partner wanting to resolve this whole thing peacefully and easily, but if i had taken the lead on this one, the guy is leaving, now, one way or another, and he's clearly just...not right. I want him far away.
"Hey, come on, you're not going to see your cab from in here."
"I don't need it. I'm not going anywhere. I just want a drink!"
"We can't give you anything else to drink."
After some confrontation i'm content to just leave him there and wait for my partner to finish calling the cab and then he can watch him. It's just not worth escalating. But it wasn't to be. He defiantly picked up his feet and slammed them down on the glass top coffee table. Well that's not going to do. I'm the one who has to clean that thing, and i'm not too happy to have to clean up skid marks from rubber boots.
I tell him as much and he takes his feet down. I tell him to get up and wait for his cab outside. He defiantly picks his feet back up, and slams them back down on the table. Toddlers. Drunk gamblers are nothing but toddlers. Well i'm not going to clean up broken glass, and he's messing up the table, so i grab the table, drag it from under his feet, and place it behind me.
"Stand up, it's time to go." There is just something about him. He's not right. He's fully engaged, but his mind is not all there.
He does get up. I set myself about 45 degrees and a step away from him, gesturing toward the door, giving him a clear avenue.
"Let's go! There's the door."
And then he hit me. In hindsight i should have seen it coming. I gave him every opportunity to do it. His fist struck in my lower abdomen, but it took me a second to register. I was actually happy he'd chosen this route. It simplifies things. No negotiating, no civility necessary, and no customer service needed. I have license to stick my boot up his ass and wear him like a shoe. My first reaction was to call on my boxing training, and the violence of my football and wrestling experience. Unfortunately, my training took over and i went into no injury capture mode. I guess i just don't have it in me to beat some rando senseless.
I grabbed him under-hook with my right arm and dragged him to the ground. We both go down, but i keep hold of him and pull him up, pushing him forward through the push-pull door to the atrium, where he falls down next to a water feature before the automatic doors that open up to the outside. I admit that i deliberately tried to open the push-pull doors with his face but he managed to put his hands up first. I can hear people behind me screaming and someone yelled "Oh my God! They're fighting!" I'm already on top of the guy, working him into a pretzel, instincts i guess from wrestling for a decade, when my partner comes barrelling in and dives on top, too. This gives me an opportunity to get a hold of surveillance (I think it was actually on my partners radio. Fights are hectic.) and have them get the police on the way and start getting good footage. I didn't need to, they were already on it. Turns out they were also doing a shift change at the same time we were, and were having the same conversation me and my partner were having when they saw the guy walking in.
I put the guy in a cradle (
this except from on top, if that makes sense) and stood up with him. I have to tell my partner to let go of him. I walked him through the automatic doors and dropped him on the pavement. He tried to get up and scurry away, but i gave him a shove and he fell flat on the ground where i sat on top of him, my weight deliberately back on his hips so that i have control of him but also to make sure i'm not cutting off his ability to breathe. I'd learned years previously that putting weight too far forward, putting too much weight on the diaphragm, could actually suffocate someone. This is where it becomes apparent that he's spun up on something. According to surveillance, the time between him hitting me, and him hitting the pavement outside was about 25 seconds. I was too quick for him to fight back, but now he had his chance, about 10 minutes worth, while we waited for the police, but this tiny guy, about 160lbs, starts doing what amounts to pushups with me on his back, shaking to try and get me off. The veins in his neck or bulging and he's screaming. I weigh close to 300lbs. This shouldn't be possible.
I have good position over him, so it doesn't matter what kind of hulk strength he comes up with, he's not going anywhere. If he manages to out muscle me, or gain advantage by getting his hips out, i planned on slipping him into a crab ride and rolling him. (Crab ride is what i know it as. Don't know what other people call it. Legs wrapped around the outside of theirs from the rear, feet hooked inside their knees, arms under hooked from behind like a backpack, and cheek pressed into their back to protect from elbows and bashes from the back of their head) He starts kicking and throwing elbows. My partner sits on his lower legs, and i take his right arm, roll it under him, and put it in a vertical bar in the center of his back. He's not doing anything with one arm. No cuffs and no gear for this job (Stupid state laws. Which is why i had gear in my car, but that hardly helps me at this point), so i just have to hold him like this for a while.
He's done. He keeps struggle but to no avail. He starts yelling things like "let me go" and whatever, but i just told him "Nope, we're just going to sit here and wait for the police. Next time don't pick a fight with someone twice your size...and throw a better punch." I have this great visual memory of the on duty manager (not the pit boss i've talked about before) standing over us with my radio in his hands, which had fallen off in the scuffle, talking to surveillance, but not daring to get his hands dirty.
The police arrive. I think 3 cars in total but 5 guys. They come to take over. I help cuff him because i've already got one of his arms, and he resists them with the other one, but two guys wrench his other arm around and get the other cuff on. I look to the police officers for direction, but they don't really offer any, so i kind of gesture to switch out with an officer, and push both hands in the center of the guys back while i stand up to keep him from trying to base up. Once i'm up, i remove my hands and, i guess sensing freedom, he goes nuts. A couple of the cops hop on the bull ride and i step back. They search him and two guys drag him by his arms to the back of an Explorer. One of the officers comes to me and asks what happened, and i tell him. And he asks if i'm going to want to press charges. I tell him no, we just need him formally trespassed, and taken out of here. They say they're going to probably be taking him to detox anyway.
I know a lot of the officers, so we're standing around talking for a minute. The guy starts going nuts in the back of the Explorer, kicking and head banging, screaming...the whole works. They put their heads together for a minute and decide they have to go in and hog tie him. I've seen this done one of three ways. One involves a taser, a lot of paperwork, and EMT's. One involves OC spray, EMT's, one very pissed off officer whose vehicle is now contaminated, and a sizable amount of paperwork. The third involves five police officers and still more paperwork. They choose five guys and paperwork.
They line up on both sides of the back doors and open them both up. The first guys on each side dive in and try to force him out to the waiting arms of the other officers. In the struggle, he spins around and kicks one of the officers in the chest, forcing him back. Seeing a little bit of daylight, he manages to scoot around and throw himself out of the vehicle to glorious fresh air...Except he's handcuffed with his hands behind his back and does a majestic dolphin dive face first into the pavement instead.
The officers pile back on top of him and calm him down with knees on the back of his neck, back, and his legs which they have now tied up to his handcuffs. Now that the guy has officially messed himself up, they have to call EMT's, anyway, and do all the extra paperwork, i'm sure. One of the officers is standing at the guys head with no real-estate left to place his own knee. The subject hawks back and spits at him. The officer steps back and gives this exact expression and
look. I recognized it instantly from this movie and laughed.
"Did he just spit on you?" one of the officers says.
"He spit
at me, yeah" the other one responds.
They have to put the spit mask on him. They should have just tased him to begin with, but that's just me.
It's probably another 10 minutes for the EMT's to get there. I'm just watching all this from about 10 yards away. It's great. Customers, who have never given the littlest rabbit turd shit about me, are coming out asking if i'm alright and watching the show. It's the most concern i've ever felt working security. He's screaming at the top of his lungs "POLICE BRUTALITY! POLICE BRUTALITY!" Wish i were the surveillance guys so i could play that footage back anytime i wanted. (I'm sorry if i come off as less than empathetic) After i get my radio back i make sure the surveillance guys in the back are getting a good play by play for their video. It becomes more of a show than i can describe on here.
Eventually the EMT's get there and all the police officers help get him onto the gurney and tied down. I don't know if they gave him a sedative, or if they're aloud to do that, but i would have. I felt really bad for the EMT's. They throw him in the back of the ambulance, tied down, and take him away. Some of the officers go with them obviously, but the rest are standing around and we're just talking. My partner that night knows those guys better than me from his previous job, so they're catching up.
"Well, i've got to go start some paperwork." I tell them, dismissing myself.
"Yeah. We've got a bit to do, too."
I went back inside and did my paperwork, got and shared necessary information with surveillance, got some paperwork from them, processed some paperwork, and finished the next 7 hours of my shift and started my weekend.
I went home and went to sleep. When i woke up i looked up the guys name in the city, county, and nearby jail systems, but he didn't show up in any of them. I thought it was weird because surely he had a few charges on him (kicking a police officer in the chest, spitting at said officers for instance) now even though i declined to press any. Destruction of public property, resisting arrest, and assault on a peace officer came to mind. I guess it's possible they patched him up, put him in a drunk tank, and released him in the morning, but i thought it was unlikely. When i got back to work on my Monday i learned what happened. One of the Shift Managers knew a guy at the county detention center and told me that when they pulled the guy out of detox in the morning, he was still spun up on whatever (supposedly PCP) he took, and when they put him in front of a judge, he tried to take a lunge at him, so they chucked him back in a cell. I'm pretty sure that counts as some kind of threat to a public official. This story was corroborated by my partner who inquired with some of the officers he's friends with that dealt with him. When i got home i checked on him again, and sure enough, he was processed later on in the day i'd checked originally. Last i heard, he had out-standings in another state and they hadn't decided what to do with him yet. I never checked on him again after that, though, and have since forgotten his name.
Do yourselves a favor: don't pick a fight with someone twice your size, whose job involves getting in fights with people. All this guy had to do was leave. No police, no charges, no jail, nothing. Instead he's probably since been extradited to whatever state he had out-standings in and has an
intimate relationship with a 6 foot, 9 inch (those are separate measurements) guy named Tyrone.
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