December 5, 2007
Years ago, on Oprah, I saw this guy who wrote a book called “The Gift of Fear.” On the show he talked about how listening to that little voice inside your head that says “something is wrong” will save your life. I try to pay attention to that vague unease, because when I was 13, it saved me from being kidnapped by a stranger. Twice.
Today I was driving home and at the last minute, decided not to take my usual route home so that I could take a more scenic drive. I made this decision at the last possible second, so I was in the wrong lane and had to quickly and awkwardly change lanes from the turn lane. When I glanced in the rear-view mirror, the car behind me did the same thing which caught my attention. As I’m driving along, I glanced in the mirror a few times and thought that car behind me was driving oddly. Almost like a cop does when they’re following you, but somehow not. So then I realized that the thought that this guy behind me was following me had crept into my subconscious.
I felt silly for even thinking it, but something about the way he drove made me think this. So I started slowing down then speeding up, adjusting my speed significantly and still the way he drove told me he was following me. At the road I take to go home, I turned right, turning on my blinker well before the street. As soon as my blinker went on, so did his. My heart started to beat faster, but I still wasn’t convinced that he was following me. I looked on my navigation system map to see if there was an upcoming area that I could take four rights and kinda go “around the block.” I didn’t see one, but I saw a roundabout. I took the roundabout all the way around until I was going back the way I came. I slowed down to almost a stop in the roundabout so that I could get his license plate number in case he was following me. My heart skipped a beat when he followed me all the way around and was also heading back the way we came. Confirmed bad guy behind me. I started to scroll through my navigation system trying to find the nearest police station. I *know* where it is, and yet I couldn’t remember at that moment. Funny how stress makes your mind go totally blank. Like when my kids are seriously hurt and I can’t remember the doctor’s phone number.
I got to the end of the road and turned left, still going back the way I came, trying to send the message that I knew he was back there. He got it. He pulled over and sat there, so like a bat out of hell, I floored it. I suspected he was trying to wait until I decided to come back that way. I didn’t go back that way. When I got home, I called the police. They told me to keep an eye out for the car and they would run the plates and see if it raised any red flags.
All the times in my life that I have been in truly dangerous situations were because I had ignored that little voice inside my head that said “Danger!” and said to myself “You’re being silly.” The author of that book emphasized over and over to never, ever ignore that little voice.
If you’re wondering why I didn’t call 911 while in the car, it was because years ago, a guy cut me off on the freeway and then I passed him and gave him a dirty look. Which enraged him and he started chasing me. Son #1 was a baby and in the back seat and I was FLYING down the freeway, weaving in and out of traffic, with this guy chasing me, terrified that he was going to shoot me. The 911 dispatcher kept telling me to pull over. Which I didn’t want to do in case he had a gun. I wasn’t scared for myself as much as for son #1. Quite honestly, I was terrified that if I called 911 today, the dispatcher was going to tell me to pull over. And you know what? No way in fricken’ hell I was pulling over. Sorry 911. Take a flying leap. I didn’t make it to my age by stopping and ASKING trouble to come get me.
So now I wonder where this guy picked me up. Was he following me around the store I had been in? I had only been in the car less than five minutes when I first noticed him. I’m hoping to never see that guy or his vehicle again. It was definitely a scary day. Son #1 asked me when he got home what would I be worried about it for? That I could just Hapkido him. I reminded son #1 that you always assume the other guy is a black belt. I don’t want to find out whether or not he’s a black belt.
