If He Were A Stalker, I’d Be Dead
As I was walking out of work yesterday, I was having a conversation with my detective friend. I walked through the parking lot, unlocking the Jeep and throwing my purse and gym bag in the back seat before getting into the front seat, talking without paying the slightest bit of attention to my surroundings.
This is absolutely nothing new, and drives this particular detective crazy, I’m sure.
“Did you happen to look around your Jeep before you got into it?” he asked. I stopped with my key in the ignition.
“No. Do I need to?”
“I think you should.”
I laughed nervously, expecting this to be a great trick. Sure, I’ll get out, look around, and he’d start laughing at me because I fell prey to the power of suggestion. I refuse to live a life of paranoia; so I argued with him for a moment longer…
“Just get out for a minute and look around.”
“Why?”
“Just GET OUT.”
“Why?” I slowly opened the door. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Just GET OUT.”
I peeked around the back of the Jeep to see him standing behind it…
“How long have you been there?” I asked, turning a very bright shade of red.
“Long enough to know we really have to work on your observation skills….”
February 2nd, 2008 at 9:25 pm
He’s seen too many instances where someone got ambushed walking to their car.
February 3rd, 2008 at 8:15 am
i’ve been robbed while in my car, but never outside of it. good ol’ atlanta.