A wierd, rather unsettling experience; and something to muse over
I felt like writing this up in the Backroom, since it might be good material for discussion, as well as letting it out to someone who won't get overly nervous; hopefully, it will also force me to commit it to memory.
I was walking down the streets of my hometown, as I so commonly do, in the dead of night. Not always a good idea, I know, but it is nice. Besides, there is little difference between the daytime traffic and the nighttime traffic in this town (i.e. very dead.) Anyway, as I was walking along one of the less-beaten streets, a car pulled over to the side of the road. I should also mention that I was walking on the left side of the street, and the car pulled up roughly parallel to me, on the right side, so he was some distance away from me. There was some (probably drunken, being rather unintentionally loud and slightly odd-sounding) talking inside of the car, and then suddenly, someone yelled out, "Hey, party in here." I ignored them at first, taking them for a carload of drunken teenagers out on a midnight cruise, a not altogether uncommon site in my town. The only odd thing was the car: usually, packs such as this travelled in their parents' minivan or SUV or such, so they could all fit in with the beer. But this was a cruddy old 80's mid-size 4-door sedan; not their usual vehicle of choice.
Then the driver honked the horn and yelled, "Hey, you! Party!" This time, I turned around, for only a second, and at that point I became quite nervous. There were only two people in the car, one clearly a man (the driver), and the other unidentifiable. After glancing at them, I continued on my journey; however, I was quite sure that a couple of oddballs had just tried to pick me up. The further I walked, the more I was sure of it. Then, just as I reached an intersection on a more active street, which I turned left onto, the car came from behind me, and turned left as well; just before he did, the driver once again said to me, "Party in this car, turn around..." It goes without saying that I didn't, and the car turned left and continued down the road.
It was the second time that really freaked me out. Now, I knew that, if this was two guys trying to pick me up, it wasn't just a couple of gays. These guys were perverts. It wasn't what he had said that had set me off; it was how he said it. He had a creepy, slightly singsongy voice, like he was trying to lure me into his goddamn car.
Suddenly, I remembered my swiss army knife, which I recently had decided to start carrying everywhere, rather than let it sit idle on my desk. I decided to withdraw the blade; it is only 21/4 inches, but even a little blade like that one will do some damage, not to mention giving second thought to anyone who thought I was hopeless. As I walked along the street, the blade in my pocket but still firmly gripped in my hand, I remember not feeling scared so much as freaked out and on edge, nervously eyeing every car that passed me by to see if it was the same car from before.
The part that happened next, the key to this whole thing, requires some explanation: the road I was on heads North-South, and it intersects with another, First street, that heads East-West. I was on the East side of the North-South street, headed south, and I intended to turn left on First street, so I would be heading East on the North side of First street. The intersection of the two streets is well-lit, especially since there is a major highway and hospital nearby; and on the Northeast corner, there is a gas station.
On this partiular night, there was also a cop car at the gas station, so I felt reassured; however, as I neared the station, I saw a sedan that looked like the one that had passed me earlier. As I passed near the gas station, it started to pull out, towards me; the only seperation between us was a low concrete bump. At that moment, I had thought I would be afraid, especially in a circumstance like this; yet just then, I did not feel afraid. In fact, I did not really feel anything at all, except... I felt ready. I was prepared to face them, should they suddenly come for me. I then withdrew the knife from my pocket, and held it carefully so that there was no way for the Cop to see it if he was in his car (his view was blocked by other cars, anyway) but the other car could clearly see it. Then, I set my gaze on the car, telling them the only way I could to come and try to get me. I sure didn't want them to, but I looked at them like that, anyway.
I have no idea if it was the same car or not, but it might have been; because as I continued to stare at it, with the knife clearly drawn, the car slowed to a stop for a moment; then, it pulled back a little further, and pulled out a little further, before pulling forward and turning North, and driving away from me. I turned the corner and continued to walk home, putting the blade in my pocket, but not letting go of it or putting it away until I was back in my house.
There are a few things about this experience that really got me thinking just now- and I do mean, just now; it's 12:40 where I am, and this happened literally an hour ago. One is that I realised how important protecting yourself is. That doesn't mean carrying a gun everywhere; it just means, carrying a short, easily-concealed knife or even a hand taser or something of the sort can make a world of difference.
The other thing, by far the more profound, is remembering how I reacted. I did not become terribly afraid, as I have always thought I would. I became ready, like I said earlier; I became stronger than I thought I was. Now, if I had actually had to face a a couple of real nuts, I don't know if I would have reacted so well; but even so, I acted more on instinct and in more of a pragmatic, defensive mode than I tought I could. Really made me think about how much I do not know about myself.
Well... this is the backroom, so... discuss.
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Originally Posted by Louis VI the Fat
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