Domestic violence is an unfortunately common occurrence; so are bar fights. But a domestic-violence incident at a bar, such as the one that occurred at Moe’s Caribbean, a bar at 1454 Second Avenue, on Nov. 3 is somewhat rarer.
The incident occurred shortly after 10 p.m., when a 31-year-old man was having an argument with his former girlfriend. When she apparently failed to see things his way, he threw a glass at her, hitting her in the head. Then he fled the scene.
But rather than keep going, as most cads would, he decided to come back—whether to hit her again or to apologize, the cops aren’t sure. “He returned to the scene of the crime a short time later,” a police official said. By then, the cops had arrived at Mo’s. “The officers confronted him,” the official added.
But a guy who would hit his girlfriend in public—or in private, for that matter—by definition doesn’t know when to quit. So rather than submit to arrest, or employ the gentle art of persuasion to bring the cops around to his point of view, he tried to run them over in his car.
“He was hell-bent on trying to get away,” the police official said. The suspect managed to hit no less than three officers with his vehicle, a gray 2002 Ford Explorer, though happily none of the cops were significantly injured. “There were minor injuries to legs,” the police official said. “All the officers are back at work.”
The suspect, a Bronx resident, was apprehended at 96th Street and the F.D.R. Drive. His girlfriend, or rather ex-girlfriend, was treated at the scene by emergency medical technicians for lacerations to her head and then removed to New York Presbyterian Hospital.
In the roster of the city’s most precarious front-line jobs, in addition to police officers and firefighters, there should undoubtedly be a place for bank customer-service representatives. Their job is to sign up new customers; anybody can walk in off the street, and there’s no one to screen out the crooks and nut cases beforehand—such as the lady who visited the Citibank branch at 171 East 72nd Street on Nov. 5.
She wanted to get a new bank card, so the Citibank employee asked her for two forms of ID—an entirely reasonable request, or so one would think, especially with identity theft constituting a national epidemic these days. But the suspect seems to have taken the request as a personal affront; she apparently didn’t buy any of that pabulum about it being as much to protect the customer as to thwart the crook.
When she couldn’t produce the required ID, instead of agreeing to go home and get it, she reached over the Citibank worker’s desk and started throwing items across the room.
Then she left—but not for long. She was back a minute later, her honor not yet sufficiently avenged, and started to throttle her opponent anew, pounding the customer-service representative over the head with her pocketbook. When she was finished, she was arrested for assault, and her victim, a 62-year-old Bronx resident, received medical attention at the scene.
I Like Big Butts …
The Guggenheim Museum, at 1071 Fifth Avenue, has experienced its share of tumult in recent years, what with director Thomas Krens’ world-domination schemes, the departure of fat cat Peter Lewis from its board of directors, and the fact that they can’t seem to stop the paint peeling off Frank Lloyd Wright’s landmark façade. (Keep your fingers crossed that the current renovation will arrest the decay.)
And if that weren’t bad enough, a woman’s pocketbook was stolen from the museum on Nov. 3—when, she says, the institution was closed and the only people who could have absconded with it were museum staffers.
The victim, a 40-year-old Brooklyn resident, told the police that she was at the museum for a meeting at 8 a.m. and placed her pocketbook on the floor, stipulating that her personal property—subsequently stolen—was in the purse when she put it down.
The good news is that the cops may be able to limit their list of suspects to anyone who may have confessed to a fondness for big asses. The victim told the police that her debit card—one of the items stolen from her bag—was used to purchase access to such Web sites as Bigbuttfilm.com and Phatjuicyass.com.
Also missing was a $172 TransitChek, a Chase Platinum credit card, $120 in cash and her New York State driver’s license.