You know that when I start a story with, "I was minding my own business when..." it means that some weirdo decided to start messing with me. Yesterday was no exception.
I was at the neighborhood 7/11 gas station, minding my own business, when I heard a man ranting. Actually, he was screaming.
"F-you! I'm going to get you! I WILL KILL YOU!!! YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING AND I CAN KILL YOU GOOD! YOU BETTER KEEP AWAY FROM ME BECAUSE I WILL KILL YOU!"
"Don't look, don't look," I told myself, "Just pretend like you're invisible."
I shrank into the driver's seat of my truck and peered around the gas pump. It was a large, wild-looking homeless man. He began directing his rant at the first person in his path: another wild-looking homeless man. Why do crazy people always seem to hang around 7/11's?
"AND I TELL YOU THAT THEY CANNOT DO THIS TO ME! I WILL KILL THEM ALL! I CAN KILL THEM, I KNOW HOW! I DON'T LET NOBODY MESS WITH ME!"
"Okay man, okay! I hear you! I HEAR YOU!! I HEAR YOU!! I HEAR YOU!" the other homeless man raged in return.
Great, now both men are screaming at each other and they're standing ten feet away from me, on the other side of the pump. Heart pounding, I decide to squirt them with the gas hose if they turn their attention my way.
Homeless Guy #1 keeps walking but starts apologizing. "Sorry man, I wasn't talking to you. I'm talking to those other people. I AM SO SICK OF THOSE OTHER PEOPLE!"
"I HEAR YOU!!! I HEEEEAAAAAR YOOOOOUUUUU!!!!!!" Homeless Guy #2 screams after him.
And then there's silence.
Homeless Guy #2 finally spots me plastered up against the side of my car.
"Sorry ma'am, sorry about that guy. A lady like you shouldn't have to listen to that sort of thing and I apologize. He's just crazy and he's always ranting like that. I seen him before and he's always ranting like that. Again, I'm sorry ma'am"
Huh? Was this the same guy screaming his head off not two seconds prior? I realize that he's waiting for a response so I squeak out, "It's quite alright and I appreciate the apology." I replace the gas hose and get out of there.
Fast-forward fifteen minutes later: I'm pulling out of the grocery and my attention is drawn to a man sitting at another bus-stop.
"STOP STARING AT ME YOU B---CH! YOU BETTER STOP F-ING STARING AT ME AND PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR OWN G-D BUSINESS. YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A STUCK-UP, WORTHLESS B--CH!"
It was Homeless Guy # 1 and he was talking to me, of course. I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. I've never been called a "stuck-up, worthless b--ch" before. At least, not to my face.
Later on I found myself considering Homeless Guy #1's situation. How did he wind up in our neighborhood? Clearly, he took a bus, but what led him here? There's not much for crazy, homeless people to do in these parts. And why was he at another bus stop mere minutes later? Did he get kicked off the original bus for his rantings? If that's the case, would another bus allow him to board? If not, how would he get home? Would it be possible for him to be marooned in our neighborhood?
Fast-forward to later that night, around 10 pm. Helicopter Butt (our middle dog) was following me everywhere, gently imploring with his eyes for me to please, please take him for a walk. I cannot say "no" to Helicopter Butt for he is the sweetest, most easy-going dog of our trio.
Side bar: we call him "Helicopter Butt" because when he's excited, his tail twirls 'round and 'round like the rotor blade of a helicopter. He has yet to go airborn, but I'm confident that, given the right stimulus, it will happen one day.
Back to the story.
Helicopter Butt melts me. I turn to Husband and declare, "Looks like I'll have to take the dogs for a walk. I don't have the heart not to."
"Okay, but I want Le Pooch Grande to sit this one out. Her paws are still sore from chasing the tennis ball on Sunday."
"Will you please go with me?" I ask, eyes batting, "I'm scared to go by myself."
This is crap, of course. I have no fear whatsoever of walking the dogs by myself at night. My neighborhood is safe and besides, it's just around the block. Granted, "the block" is half a mile long, but I've never felt threatened. Still, I really just want Husband there because, quit frankly, I love his company. We have some of our best, most fun conversations when we're out walking the dogs.
"Sure!" he says, ever the gentleman. We head out.
Mid-way around the block we decide to cut through a yard and make our way home. Little Husband is making me very tired and I need to drop into bed ASAP.
Chattering up a storm, we cross the yard and pop out on the other side of the block where I note, out loud, that it's incredibly dark.
As if on queue, a male voice calls out to us.
"Hey! HEY!"
We whip our heads around. It's Homeless Guy #1. I scream. Loud.
"Oh, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to know if you have a cigarette." His voice is rough and gravely. He lumbers towards us. He's like The Boogeyman.
"Run! Run, Husband! It's the crazy guy I told you about!"
I start running, top speed.
I turn to see Husband lightly jogging behind me.
"RUN!!!!" I call to him. He picks up the pace.
Homeless Guy #1 is offended. "Awww...I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanted a...LOOK AT YOU BUNCH OF SCAREDY-CATS! RUNNING LIKE A BUNCH OF SCAREDY-CATS!"
Knowing the effect these cat-calls might have on Husband (nobody calls him a "scaredy-cat"), I turn to see that he's slowed his pace to a walk. Again I direct him to "run".
He runs, but he's pissed. He's no scaredy-cat. Running's for girls! It's clear that he's only running to keep up with me.
Naturally this happens on the ONLY NIGHT that we don't have Le Pooch Grande along on the walk. Le Pooch Grande would have let this guy have it!
We run all the way to our garage door where I frantically enter the unlock code. The door groans, cranks upwards and we scoot underneath. Husband shoots me a dirty look as he dashes over to the button that will close the door. I lean against the wall, relieved to be safe.
"We probably should have run around the block and tried to lose him so that he wouldn't see where we live." Husband says, a trace of irritation in his voice.
"Maybe so," I reply, "But I think I would rather be safe inside our house near a telephone than running around the block with that crazy guy out there."
Husband says nothing which means we are not in agreement. Fair enough, his point is a good one.
Still, at the end of the day I feel much safer behind a locked door with three loud dogs and an alarm system than outside running around at night.
What do you think? Were we foolish to lead him to our house? Should we have kept running?
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13 comments:
Hmmm... I hate to say it sistah but if you look at it from a very distant, very safe point of view. I'd have to agree with the stealthyness of your hubby's point of view. But then again, you really can't help just wanting to get the heck outta there after you encounter with him earlier. I'm SO glad you had hubby walk with you!!!
While I think you are very safe and don't think you need to worry about homeless 001 following you home and coming in. Be sure to set your alarm while home alone and just keep an eye out for a couple of days. With his mindset (aka crazy mother F'er), I'm not so sure he'll be resourceful enough to remember where you ran to.
I think it to be to your advantage that you didn't have Le Pooch Grande with ya. Think of him as your Secret Weapon! :)
hopefully you outran him and he didnt see where you went. i always think "if someone is following me, go to someone else's condo, not your own" but i know if that happened, i'd run straight home like the scaredy-cat that i am.
I'm really glad husband was with you. i think you need to get a good recording of the dogs barking manically and keep the tape recorder on you when you walk the dogs. then if you come across Crazy Guy again, you can play the barking and maybe scare him away.
Yeah, it's a tough call. Had I not seen the guy earlier, I probably wouldn't have been frightened of him that night. It's not the first time that sme scary person approached us for a cigarette after dark (we didn't run then). And Melek, you are right. All I wanted was to get behind a locked door with a phone nearby that could dial 911. I was banking on the fact that we could both run fast enough to out-distance him before he could see where we lived. Not sure if that was the case as I never turned around to find out if he was close behind us.
Le Pooch Grande is a tremendous watch dog. No one can get within 15 feet of our house without her going wild. I used to "shush" her, but then I saw the benefit of letting her bark her little black head off!
1. I would have screamed and peed myself at the sight/sound of homeless guy #1.
2. I wouldn't have run from the guy, because I would have been afraid that would really piss him off. My thought would be to remain as unforgetable as possible (except for pissing myself and screaming). This strategy is questionable depending on the circumstances.. how close was he?, was he coming toward you?, etc.
3. I probably would not have gone home in either case because I'm paranoid. I think that he's really not likely to hurt you and/or husband, but he could be a coward and do something stupid if he knows where you live and thinks no one is looking. But, if I hadn't gone home, I would have been scared to death trying to figure out where to go.
4. If I had run, I would have been alone! No matter what I did or said, Mark would have continued at the same pace. Partially because he doesn't listen to me, but also because he's reactionless man. I don't know how else to describe it, but he just doesn't react.
5. You want me to move to your neighborhood!??!? :)
If you see the guy again though, I think you should call the police. Three times in one day is enough. He singled you out twice. He needs to be gone!
Awww, M2K2...now you had to go and diss my 'hood! It' not my neighborhoosd's fault that there was a crazy man running around it! Look, the first two sightings were on the outskirts of my neighborhood which also happens to be on the outskirts of downtown. That last sighting, well, I have no comeback for that. He was probably marooned and trying to make his way home.
In my neighorhood's defense, here's a quote from the woman who bought a bed frame this afternoon. I offered to drop it off at her work but she insisted on coming by because " I would love an excuse to trek back over to the most beautiful neighborhood in Austin!"
That being said, I think you out to take that awesome realtor's advice and check out the houses in Pflugerville. Oh yeah, baby, Pflugerville's where it's AT! ;)
(If you don't move to my neighborhood, I will kill you. I know what I am doing and I can kill you good!)
I figured it out!! You want me to move to your neighborhood so my house can be your decoy when you are running from belligerent homeless men!
I'd still let you in and then I'd sick Merlin on him. He might choke homeless man with flying fur or maybe he'd knock him down while he attempts to sniff his crotch.
i agree with kelly that you need to call the coppers if you see this guy again. maybe they can show him back to his own neighborhood.
and yes, i used to shush zeke too. but now when he growls at a stranger (never at someone he knows tho), i tell him "good boy. you GET 'em!" and he's just so proud of himself :)
I didn't know you have a truck!
OMG ahahhhahaha. I can't even tell you how hysterically I was laughing about what happened at the gas station. I would have alternated between laughing and crying. On a serious note, hopefully he didn't follow you. You're lucky you had your husband there!
Shannon - the truck is Husband's. I used it that day to pick up a crib mattress.
WD - so glad you saw the humor in the events at the gas station. I never know if my writing correctly translates the events as I see them. I thought it was quite funny (but a little scary) as well.
M2K2 - The real reason I want you to move to my neighborhood is so that you can walk my dogs for me whenever we go out of town. Apparently, in these parts, that's what neighbors are for.
so, Le husband Grande sound like Le Pussy Grande... I bet he runs like a girl... :)
Watch it, Aussie. Husband might just have the connections to deport your ass.
Crap! Did I forget to lock Mark back in his cage after breakfast this morning?
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