I've mentioned before that when it comes to crazy people, I'm gravity. A girl I was seeing in college, which wasn't that long ago for an academic late bloomer like myself, she would always ask me, a psych major, if she had schizophrenia. She was serious and I was scared. One thing that I noticed about her was she was easily distracted (oh, wow, a plane!) and liked to talk out loud to herself...in the f#cking G-D library!!! I'm fairly accepting of a person's natural, God-given, defects of body and person. That also goes for scars--emotional and physical. But, the minute somebody starts to stalk me, it gets a bit hard to feel any empathy for another's problems. I don't mind people obsessing over me, just don't show up conveniently in an elevator with a psycho, thousand-tooth grin on your face where I can't get away from you.
I could talk about the crazy people in my life throughout the years, such as an old man named Leo, who wrote me the most psychotic poems and showed me his collection of urine samples (yes, this is true folks), but I won't. I will tell you, however, of the guy I met yesterday.
I was at work and out in the parking lot was a guy, late forties, in this wicked, vintage Triumph sports car. One thing you need to know about me is that I am drawn to fine autos and have a respectable working knowledge of auto mechanics. Let me look under your hood sometime and I'll put a smile on your face (*cough* Mustang *cough*). Back to the story, so I go up to this guy and start asking him about his car. The minute I take interest in this guy's car his eyes light up, and he then goes into show 'n' tell super-overdrive.
The first show 'n' tell item he pulled out was this 50 caliber bullet, that turned out to be a cleverly disguised crack lighter, you know the type. But, it was cool, and I made the mistake of telling him so. He then said, "I've got pictures of my other cars, do you want to see them?" I'm like, "Hell yeah, man!" Big mistake. So, he pulls out a whole damn photo album from a duffel bag that is full of hand guns and my heart just sinks right into my belly. So, while this guy keeps going on about his cars, I can't concentrate because of all these guns. I made another mistake by trying to "not look" but look at the cash of weapons that this dude had in his bag. He picked up on this right away.
"Hey," he said to me, "I see you like what's in the bag there." I didn't respond, even though I know enough about guns to talk shop with him. He then says, "Well, then, you're really gonna like this," and pulls out a tazer and zaps the f'ing thing right in front of my face. I took a few steps back from the guy and he just says, "Zap...this guy puts out (X) amount of volts and will kill you if it is used incorrectly. It's come in handy for me, yep!"
I'm a pretty solidly built guy, albeit nice and baby-faced, so don't tangle with me. However, this guy just had me freaked. I've never felt so intimidated and creeped out in my life. What came next was the cherry on the top: He asks me, with his eyelids fluttering slightly, to come with him to see his collection of seventy guns, and a 50 caliber handgun with explosive rounds (I didn't even know they made one of those). I just said that I didn't have time for that sort of thing and walked away, fast! One thing, I'm getting a big sign made that has a giant arrow pointing down at me, saying, "I am not into dudes. Please leave me alone, creep." Why dudes and not the womens? Uggggh!
I know that this was the "man predator" equivalent of the strangers with candy routine. Good thing I'm not stupid or attracted sexually to men. I know that if I was, I'd be tied up, tazed, and jack-hammered up the anus, waiting to be disposed of in an onion patch. This just proves that I would not last ten seconds in prison. Damn my boyish good looks! You know, this experience has helped me know what some of you girls go through being harassed by creeps. I'm going to wear a man burka for the next couple of weeks. I don't want this guy to see me again.
3 years ago