Chicken delight day 3

July 16th, 2008

Part of the fun in working at Chicken Delight was answering the phone, taking the orders and setting up the delivery directions. One night, I took a phone call for a delivery in what is commonly called Oildale. It is sort of a suburb of Bakersfield, although not really. It's kind of confusing. Anyway, this delivery was going to be a piece of cake and I had my good buddy Mark with me. I had just got him a job with the company and he had gotten off early that night, and was riding around with me, keeping me company. It was probably going to be the last delivery of the night for me, then it was clean up time back at the building.

I was heading north on Chester heading towards Oildale just a few blocks north of the Traffic Circle, when these 3 guys in this 1967 Camaro pulled up alongside me and started yelling things. I had the 8-track stereo cranked and they were on Mark's side, so I didn't know what was going on at first. I turned down the stereo and asked Mark what their problem was. I had just barely asked him when the driver of the Camaro yelled for me to pull over. He wanted to kick my arse.

Apparently, he yelled, I had cut him off earlier. I told him he was full of crap and to get away. I was working. I had stuff to deliver. I didn't want to tell him I had nearly 300 dollars in my wallet from a busy night doing deliveries. All that did, apparently, was upset him even more. He tried to ram my car with his.

Sorry, but that ain't gonna happen. I figured this guy was physco and just looking for a fight, as well as his buddies. I punched the gas and pulled away from him and hung a left at the next street in Oildale, tires squealing.

Now one car at the time that could keep up with and possibly go faster than a 1965 Ford Mustang with A 289 cubic inch engine was either another Mustang, a Corvette, or a Camaro. (of stock American cars at the time, roughly) This dude was able to keep up with me turn for turn, acceleration and braking, for the same. I lost 3 hubcaps during this chase, but he didn't ever hit me, although he sure was trying. I don't know how many laws I broke during this chase, but it would have been very expensive for both of us, if we had been caught.

I finally managed to get back to Chicken Delight. As I slowed down, screeching the tires, at the back door, Mark apparently had a game plan I was unaware of. He jumped out and ran inside, returning just a few seconds later with a huge French Knife.


One of the Guys ran away as soon as he saw Mark With the knife. I guess he chased the second one down the street, so I just had the driver to contend with. The idiot decided to climb out the passenger door which was still open.

Wrong move. He came out sliding legs first, so I grabbed a hold of the door and slammed it on his ankle as it passed between the door and door frame. He cussed me out and then started to come out the drivers door. I ran around and grabbed his hand as he opened up the door and damn near broke the thing off bending it backwards. I asked him if he was going to leave us alone and he said no. So then I grabbed his finger and started squeezing. I had all four fingers in my right hand and all my weight lifting came into play.

I started hearing stuff cracking. He screamed and finally said he'd leave. Good thing, for Mark Returned with the Knife and he had this very determined look in his eyes. I let loose of the the poor guys hand and he tried to shut the door. I had to shut the door for him. His left hand, the one Had a grasp of, wasn't working very good for some reason. He was wiping tears from his eye with his other hand and trying to start his car up. Mark was going insane, yelling about don't ever think of chasing us again, cause it wasn't going to be pretty.

About then the Assistant Manager came out and wanted to know what was going on. He had the customer on the Phone line and he was understandably upset. Mark walked him inside and tried to explain to him what had happened. I filled in the details once I grabbed the pizza and went inside. Turned out to be a pretty crazy finish to a busy night.