Attack of the Crazy Woman

I may have mentioned that the O’Day offices are smack in the middle of midtown Manhattan. We're right across from The Port Authority Bus Terminal, a Catholic Church and a halfway house for addicts. The west side of 42nd Street between 8th and 9th is filled with many lovely people who dwell in and among those establishments.

Today, while walking down the west side of 42nd St, I heard a crazy, crazy, crazy woman screaming, “Stay away from me you fucking PSYHCHO!” She was screaming and screeching and throwing bottles. It happens from time to time just outside the halfway house for the criminally idiotic.

I felt bad for the person being screamed at, but I didn’t go back to help because my mother was a raving, skinny lunatic with missing teeth who had frequent rage episodes and I learned early on not to try and make any sense of it, or even attempt any kind of rescue. It only got you a good beating with her hook.

So I’m walking down the street, looking for a cop because you could tell from the sound of things someone was going to get hurt -- when suddenly the scarecrow toothless crazy woman is in MY face screaming, “Stay away from me you fucking PSYHCHO!” And then she spit in my hair.

She. Spit. In. My. Hair.

Luckily, I had just come from meeting my parole officer, who demanded that I continue with my anger management courses.

I unclenched my fists and grabbed my cell phone.

I immediately called 911, as much for her safety as mine, but before I could give my location I saw a cop in the lobby of the Commerce Bank on 42nd and 9th -- ON HIS CELLPHONE.

He was staring out the window right at us and HADN’T SEEN A THING BECAUSE HE WAS CHATTING ON HIS CELL PHONE.

I immediately corrected this situation by dragging him out and leaving him to chase her through traffic while she screamed, threw garbage and spit all over everyone.

I marched myself up to my offices to shower and beat the crap out of a pillow.

I lathered, rinsed and repeated three times. And one of my pillows sustained serious injury. And just as I was toweling my hair, I received a call on my cell phone -- from 911.

911 Operator: Did you place a call regarding a woman creating a dangerous public disturbance?

Sandra O’Day: I did.

911 Operator: The situation is being taken care of, who came to your assistance?

Sandra O’Day: Well, not the cop ON HIS CELLPHONE! I had to pull him out of the bank where he was HIDING FROM THE RAIN and put him on the case. So who helped me?
I HELPED ME.

911 Operator: Are you still on the scene at this time ma’am?

Sandra O’Day: No. I had to run to my office and shampoo crazy lady SPIT out of my hair.

911 Operator: Oh.

Sandra O’Day: When they take her in will they test her for TB?

911 Operator: I don’t know anything about that. But I will pass on the information that the officer was on his cell phone.

I look forward to hearing your stories of immense personal struggle and will continue to inspire you.