Then I got a call to pick up a guy named Mario at the Fraternal Order of Police so I went to the F.O.P. and picked up a really drunk Mariachi player. He wanted to go to his van. We drove around for a long time, but we never found his van. I finally asked for a deposit because the meter was getting pretty high, the guy waved a fifty in my face, but he wouldn’t give it to me. He was getting really biligerant and was acting like he was going to throw a punch. I yelled at him to get out of my cab and he did, and then in some sort of a macho, melodramatic, move, he ripped off his shirt, and held his shirt in his hand and waved his fist in the air at me, yelling some of the few spanish words that I knew… mostly profanities. I told my dispatcher what was going on, and asked him to call the police. He asked me to describe the suspect. By this time the man was chasing me on foot. I replied that he was a drunk mariachi player. He was topless but was wearing bright blue mariachi pants, he was chasing a cab down airport rd. My dispatcher asked me if that was the only person meeting that discription in the area, I laughed and told him yes. All of a sudden cab drivers all over town came on the radio. ” I have a drunk mariachi player chasing me down St. Frances.” ” I have a topless mariachi player chasing me down Agua Fria.” After the police came and lost his trail, I realised that his mariachi jacket was in my back seat.Oh well, it was a good trade, I lost the fare but got a nice Mariachi jacket.