Shaken not stirred
I had an interesting drive home last night.
It's a bit of a read but interesting.
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Why did I decide to go home that way? What made me want to take a different route? I normally stick to the tried and true but that night I wanted a change of pace.
Driving along the road, chilling with my music, my car beeped and dinged at me. What was she beeping about this time? Seems she was running on empty and needed a refill. I figured I could stop at the Mobil down the road to be safe. Even though I was sure I could make it to the gas station I wanted to fill up at. Too many bad calls on my part. Better to play it safe.
I pulled into the station and noticed that a few of the pumps are out of service. I drove around to the other side to check those pumps. Out of service as well. Ready to pull away, a young women approached my car. Rolling down the window, I was thinking 'what does she want?' As soon as the window rolls down enough, she began speaking in some sort of tongue. I was unclear as to what she wanted. After the crying and wailing subsided some, she pleaded with me to help her. "I need to get to work and I'm late. Can you please help me? If I don't make it to work, I don't know what I will do."
Going against my better judgement, I relinquished a yes from my reluctant mouth. I unlocked the door and she jumped in with a precarious manner. She sat in my front seat clenching her purse as if it was her most prized possession, hunching over to add extra protection for it.
At this point I still needed to get some gas. I pulled into the next gas station which was just down the street. You could even see the sign glowing sporadically in the night sky. When I pulled into the station, my new companion exploded with an accusatory voice. "What are you doing? I need to get to work! What are we doing here? Why did you stop?" I guess she failed to realize that I never filled up at the last station. After I told her that without gas we would both be stranded, her frustration subsided. I only filled up partially to speed things up.
With enough gas to get me where she needed to go and to where I needed to go, I managed to coax from her the location of her job. She was somewhat unfamiliar with the exact location and tried to belittle me for not knowing where it was.
Finally with a good idea of where she needed to go, I made the necessary turns and started traveling along a major thoroughfare. I made attempts at small talk to ease this woman's pain. She had just experienced something traumatic, not sure what exactly, and was not that talkative.
Then with an autistic fervor she rocked back and forth in my seat and began repeating the same phrases: "They want me dead. He tried to kill me. He had the same name as my ex-boyfriend. They want me dead. He tried to kill me..."
Her psychosis or what seemed like psychosis to me was quickly eating away at the little comfort I had left after I first let her into my car. Paranoia was setting in and I was becoming like my passenger, nervous and uncomfortable. I apologized in an attempt to ease her fear. I wasn't sure why I was apologizing but I thought it would help. It seemed to at least reduce her rocking motions and instead of repeating her mantra, she began rephrasing it but still with the same theme.
Every once and a while she would ask me, with a harsh and ungrateful tone, "Do you know where you are going? Are you sure this is the right way? This isn't right! Where are you taking me?" I understood her position. She was abandoned at a gas station at the complete other end of town and now she is in a car with a man she just met. 'Is he going to hurt me too?' That is probably what she was thinking. For all she knew, I could have been a rapist or a murderer. After all my disheveled appearance usually makes people think twice. Am I a terrorist, is the usual notion. This continued periodically as I drove what seemed to be the longest drive I have ever driven. It was becoming more difficult to reassure her that we were indeed going in the correct direction.
As this continued, I was becoming more paranoid than before. I revisited the purse in my head. What exactly did she have in there? Was it a knife? Maybe a gun? Was I the one that was going to be hurt? Not that anyone had to get hurt, but I couldn't resist thinking that. Did I make a huge mistake in trying to help someone who seemed in need? These questions repeated in my head with an autistic fervor like her rocking. We both became one at that moment but also distant.
Then with a slight ease she realized that we were going in the right direction. She began to calm somewhat, though she continued to talk about how they were trying to kill her. I never managed to get any more information out of her. It's like she didn't even hear me when i asked questions.
Finally, I dropped her off at her destination and with a warmth in her voice she thanked me for the ride and walked off into the distance. She never went inside the place she had asked to go to, as it was closed. She just disappeared into the lights and noise.
Without looking back, I began my trip home. I was now 30 minutes out of my way and it seemed like I would never get home. I was shaken by this experience and still unsure if anything I did was the best thing to do.
----
It has been a long time since I've had an experience like this. It reminds me of my younger days when i used to have the most interesting adventures, many of which were scary like this one.
It's a bit of a read but interesting.
----
Why did I decide to go home that way? What made me want to take a different route? I normally stick to the tried and true but that night I wanted a change of pace.
Driving along the road, chilling with my music, my car beeped and dinged at me. What was she beeping about this time? Seems she was running on empty and needed a refill. I figured I could stop at the Mobil down the road to be safe. Even though I was sure I could make it to the gas station I wanted to fill up at. Too many bad calls on my part. Better to play it safe.
I pulled into the station and noticed that a few of the pumps are out of service. I drove around to the other side to check those pumps. Out of service as well. Ready to pull away, a young women approached my car. Rolling down the window, I was thinking 'what does she want?' As soon as the window rolls down enough, she began speaking in some sort of tongue. I was unclear as to what she wanted. After the crying and wailing subsided some, she pleaded with me to help her. "I need to get to work and I'm late. Can you please help me? If I don't make it to work, I don't know what I will do."
Going against my better judgement, I relinquished a yes from my reluctant mouth. I unlocked the door and she jumped in with a precarious manner. She sat in my front seat clenching her purse as if it was her most prized possession, hunching over to add extra protection for it.
At this point I still needed to get some gas. I pulled into the next gas station which was just down the street. You could even see the sign glowing sporadically in the night sky. When I pulled into the station, my new companion exploded with an accusatory voice. "What are you doing? I need to get to work! What are we doing here? Why did you stop?" I guess she failed to realize that I never filled up at the last station. After I told her that without gas we would both be stranded, her frustration subsided. I only filled up partially to speed things up.
With enough gas to get me where she needed to go and to where I needed to go, I managed to coax from her the location of her job. She was somewhat unfamiliar with the exact location and tried to belittle me for not knowing where it was.
Finally with a good idea of where she needed to go, I made the necessary turns and started traveling along a major thoroughfare. I made attempts at small talk to ease this woman's pain. She had just experienced something traumatic, not sure what exactly, and was not that talkative.
Then with an autistic fervor she rocked back and forth in my seat and began repeating the same phrases: "They want me dead. He tried to kill me. He had the same name as my ex-boyfriend. They want me dead. He tried to kill me..."
Her psychosis or what seemed like psychosis to me was quickly eating away at the little comfort I had left after I first let her into my car. Paranoia was setting in and I was becoming like my passenger, nervous and uncomfortable. I apologized in an attempt to ease her fear. I wasn't sure why I was apologizing but I thought it would help. It seemed to at least reduce her rocking motions and instead of repeating her mantra, she began rephrasing it but still with the same theme.
Every once and a while she would ask me, with a harsh and ungrateful tone, "Do you know where you are going? Are you sure this is the right way? This isn't right! Where are you taking me?" I understood her position. She was abandoned at a gas station at the complete other end of town and now she is in a car with a man she just met. 'Is he going to hurt me too?' That is probably what she was thinking. For all she knew, I could have been a rapist or a murderer. After all my disheveled appearance usually makes people think twice. Am I a terrorist, is the usual notion. This continued periodically as I drove what seemed to be the longest drive I have ever driven. It was becoming more difficult to reassure her that we were indeed going in the correct direction.
As this continued, I was becoming more paranoid than before. I revisited the purse in my head. What exactly did she have in there? Was it a knife? Maybe a gun? Was I the one that was going to be hurt? Not that anyone had to get hurt, but I couldn't resist thinking that. Did I make a huge mistake in trying to help someone who seemed in need? These questions repeated in my head with an autistic fervor like her rocking. We both became one at that moment but also distant.
Then with a slight ease she realized that we were going in the right direction. She began to calm somewhat, though she continued to talk about how they were trying to kill her. I never managed to get any more information out of her. It's like she didn't even hear me when i asked questions.
Finally, I dropped her off at her destination and with a warmth in her voice she thanked me for the ride and walked off into the distance. She never went inside the place she had asked to go to, as it was closed. She just disappeared into the lights and noise.
Without looking back, I began my trip home. I was now 30 minutes out of my way and it seemed like I would never get home. I was shaken by this experience and still unsure if anything I did was the best thing to do.
----
It has been a long time since I've had an experience like this. It reminds me of my younger days when i used to have the most interesting adventures, many of which were scary like this one.