(no subject)
This week, I'm on Help Desk, so I telecommuted. One of the advantages of working from home is that I can easily take an exercise walk during my lunch break: plenty of time, and I can take a shower after.
When I exercise, I walk two circuits around our subdivision, including the "spur" along dead end Margie Drive. This amounts to approximately two miles. I bring my iPod and listen to music that pumps me up. And the weather lately has been perfect: sunny and cool. I love it.
On this day, on my second circuit, near the main road, I saw up ahead an older car moving very slowly. Now, as those who know me understand, I get suspicious when I see a strange car in my neighborhood doing unusual things. As I walked closer and closer, I could see that the driver was taking pictures. He seemed to be photographing the vacant lots near the main street.
As I passed the car, I looked more closely. A middle aged man, skinny, with dark hair, who was indeed taking pictures, sat in the driver's seat. I walked on. On the back of his light-colored, older model, four-door sedan were two identical bumper stickers, one on each side of the car: Vote for Ron Paul. Another red flag? Lol. Well, yeah, sort of. Ron Paul voters are a bit nutty. They're mostly harmless, but it does take a special kind of...psychology...to be a Ron Paul voter.
As I rounded the end of my route, at the Stop sign at the end of the subdivision, I turned around and headed back. I knew that, if he was still there, still moving slowly, I would have to say something. He was. Bear in mind this: cars can move so much faster than a walker that if I could pass a car, turn around, come back, and that car is still there, it's moving very slow.
I did not think ahead as well as I would have wished in hindsight. I just walked right up to the driver's side window, pulled out my head phones, and asked, "Can I help you with anything?"
As most people will do when confronted, he acted a bit startled. One part of my mind sized him up quickly. The thought that formed is no brag; I thought, "I could take him." Again, no boast. He looked skinny, but weak. It was what it was.
He said, "No, it's fine."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm an assessor evaluating some properties."
"What properties?"
"These two lots at the end of the street."
"Can I see some I.D.?"
"I'm not required to carry I.D."
I don't remember what I next said, but his last words to me were, "Thank you." Suspicious? Sorry, but to me, yes, suspicious. He was a bit "too happy" about being confronted for my taste.
I walked back home, My route was done. But it was, perhaps, with a bit extra energy that I arrived back home. Quickly, I put away my hand weights and my iPod, and headed back out. Now, understand, even though I would normally be done at this point, I have lately begun to feel that I need a bit extra exercise, something to burn off the final energy and get my heart rate up enough to benefit me. My intention was to run a bit, and run I did.
Imagine a T on its side. This is my subdivision. At the top end of the cross bar is the main road. At the bottom end of the cross bar is my house. The other part is Margie Drive.
So off I run from my house. There is the car, up ahead, moving slowly in my direction. WTF? Now, at a run, I'm moving much faster than I was before. Still quite far up ahead, the car turns down Margie Drive. Now, as I have said before, Margie Drive is a dead end. If this guy was, indeed, assessing the properties at the end of the subdivision, he had no reason whatsoever to go down Margie Drive.
As I ran in that direction, I considered turing down Margie Drive. I wanted to see the car again. I wanted to confront the guy again. But now, I was a bit worried. What was he doing? Admittedly, the thought did cross my mind that *I* had freaked HIM out, and that was why he had turned down Margie drive. But that did not quite make sense. Who, behind the wheel of a two ton vehicle, is scared of a guy on foot?
As I ran, I quickly realized that my intention of running all the way to the Stop sign was unrealistic. Before long, I was huffing and puffing, my breath heaving not long after I had passed Margie Drive. A bit further up, I glanced over my shoulder, and saw the suspicious car now back at the stop sign at the end of Margie Drive. For a brief time, I ran on, considering my options. Should I run off to the side of the road where he could not possibly run over me?
Instead, I turned around, and headed back home, as the driver turned in my direction, and drove slowly back toward me, and, back toward the exit of our subdivision. Every part of my body was ready to dive off to the side of the road should he attempt to run me over. But, instead, he gave me a wide berth. As the car passed me, I stopped, turned to watch him go, and made a mental note of his license plate, which is what I wished I had done the first time I had passed him, before I confronted him.
So, off he went, towards my subdivision's exit. And, off I went, back home. My intention was to write down his license plate number as soon as I got back in the house. But my phone was ringing with a Help Desk call, pretty much the moment I closed the door. By the time I had handled the call, the license plate number had fled my mind completely. And so, that is the end of the story.
It was...an interesting experience. I could have reacted more wisely, for sure, but I am not unhappy with anything I did.
And that is the anticlimactic end of this story. Was this a suspicious vehicle with a suspicious man behind the wheel? Was I a paranoid freak? Or does the truth lie somewhere in the middle of these extremes? I suspect the latter, now that I've had time to think.
When I exercise, I walk two circuits around our subdivision, including the "spur" along dead end Margie Drive. This amounts to approximately two miles. I bring my iPod and listen to music that pumps me up. And the weather lately has been perfect: sunny and cool. I love it.
On this day, on my second circuit, near the main road, I saw up ahead an older car moving very slowly. Now, as those who know me understand, I get suspicious when I see a strange car in my neighborhood doing unusual things. As I walked closer and closer, I could see that the driver was taking pictures. He seemed to be photographing the vacant lots near the main street.
As I passed the car, I looked more closely. A middle aged man, skinny, with dark hair, who was indeed taking pictures, sat in the driver's seat. I walked on. On the back of his light-colored, older model, four-door sedan were two identical bumper stickers, one on each side of the car: Vote for Ron Paul. Another red flag? Lol. Well, yeah, sort of. Ron Paul voters are a bit nutty. They're mostly harmless, but it does take a special kind of...psychology...to be a Ron Paul voter.
As I rounded the end of my route, at the Stop sign at the end of the subdivision, I turned around and headed back. I knew that, if he was still there, still moving slowly, I would have to say something. He was. Bear in mind this: cars can move so much faster than a walker that if I could pass a car, turn around, come back, and that car is still there, it's moving very slow.
I did not think ahead as well as I would have wished in hindsight. I just walked right up to the driver's side window, pulled out my head phones, and asked, "Can I help you with anything?"
As most people will do when confronted, he acted a bit startled. One part of my mind sized him up quickly. The thought that formed is no brag; I thought, "I could take him." Again, no boast. He looked skinny, but weak. It was what it was.
He said, "No, it's fine."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm an assessor evaluating some properties."
"What properties?"
"These two lots at the end of the street."
"Can I see some I.D.?"
"I'm not required to carry I.D."
I don't remember what I next said, but his last words to me were, "Thank you." Suspicious? Sorry, but to me, yes, suspicious. He was a bit "too happy" about being confronted for my taste.
I walked back home, My route was done. But it was, perhaps, with a bit extra energy that I arrived back home. Quickly, I put away my hand weights and my iPod, and headed back out. Now, understand, even though I would normally be done at this point, I have lately begun to feel that I need a bit extra exercise, something to burn off the final energy and get my heart rate up enough to benefit me. My intention was to run a bit, and run I did.
Imagine a T on its side. This is my subdivision. At the top end of the cross bar is the main road. At the bottom end of the cross bar is my house. The other part is Margie Drive.
So off I run from my house. There is the car, up ahead, moving slowly in my direction. WTF? Now, at a run, I'm moving much faster than I was before. Still quite far up ahead, the car turns down Margie Drive. Now, as I have said before, Margie Drive is a dead end. If this guy was, indeed, assessing the properties at the end of the subdivision, he had no reason whatsoever to go down Margie Drive.
As I ran in that direction, I considered turing down Margie Drive. I wanted to see the car again. I wanted to confront the guy again. But now, I was a bit worried. What was he doing? Admittedly, the thought did cross my mind that *I* had freaked HIM out, and that was why he had turned down Margie drive. But that did not quite make sense. Who, behind the wheel of a two ton vehicle, is scared of a guy on foot?
As I ran, I quickly realized that my intention of running all the way to the Stop sign was unrealistic. Before long, I was huffing and puffing, my breath heaving not long after I had passed Margie Drive. A bit further up, I glanced over my shoulder, and saw the suspicious car now back at the stop sign at the end of Margie Drive. For a brief time, I ran on, considering my options. Should I run off to the side of the road where he could not possibly run over me?
Instead, I turned around, and headed back home, as the driver turned in my direction, and drove slowly back toward me, and, back toward the exit of our subdivision. Every part of my body was ready to dive off to the side of the road should he attempt to run me over. But, instead, he gave me a wide berth. As the car passed me, I stopped, turned to watch him go, and made a mental note of his license plate, which is what I wished I had done the first time I had passed him, before I confronted him.
So, off he went, towards my subdivision's exit. And, off I went, back home. My intention was to write down his license plate number as soon as I got back in the house. But my phone was ringing with a Help Desk call, pretty much the moment I closed the door. By the time I had handled the call, the license plate number had fled my mind completely. And so, that is the end of the story.
It was...an interesting experience. I could have reacted more wisely, for sure, but I am not unhappy with anything I did.
And that is the anticlimactic end of this story. Was this a suspicious vehicle with a suspicious man behind the wheel? Was I a paranoid freak? Or does the truth lie somewhere in the middle of these extremes? I suspect the latter, now that I've had time to think.