So, yesterday I was almost hunted down and murdered.
The street exit to one of my offices (I bounce around a few facilities) is right onto a feeder street of a freeway. It just so happens that this particular driveway dumps you out pretty much right in front of one of the freeway exits where cars can come zooming across lanes at 50 gagillion miles an hour and you have to be fairly careful as to not get sideswiped.
Well, yesterday I was exiting the parking lot onto the street and some maniac dude comes tearing across three lanes of traffic at the same time I was exiting. Cut to horns blowing, a few unnecessar tire screeches, blah blah blah everyone kept driving.
So I thought.
The dude started swirving across all three lanes … back and forth and back and forth. I (and the other drivers around me) began to hang back because we all figured he was drunk or high and it’s generally a good idea to give those folks PLENTY of room for their crazy.
He came up to the stoplight before anyone else and ended up in the middle lane, but had his wheels turned hard left as if he was still trying to turn left at some point but ran out of room — or he was going to turn left whether the next person to the left of him was ready or not.
You see, when I moved into the u-turn lane to go under the freeway, I looked at him… Only to see him with his window rolled down looking for me and waving a gun.
It appears he was THIS PISSED about the little almost crashing into me scene moments ago and was going to extract some sort of 5 o’clock news drama scene starring me.
To say my heart started racing is an understatement.
I hightailed it on to the freeway and cued up 9-1-1 on my cell phone in case this nutcase actually figured out how to cut through the lanes, circle back under the freeway and come chase me. I’m fairly certain I drove the next 17 minutes with one eye on the rearview mirror, one on the road ahead and three more on my cell phone and two side mirrors.
I did, however, make a mental list of things I needed to do and not do.
Don’t get off the freeway. Stop lights could give him access. If you see him, call 9-1-1 and tell them where I am.
Don’t call Husband right now — it’ll delay a call to 9-1-1.
Do stay in between cars so that he can’t get in front, behind or beside me.
Try to remember where the g-ddamned police station is.
Don’t drive to my house. Don’t bring the crazy home where the kids are.
I was lucky. He never ended up back on the freeway. But just to be sure, I took a different way home.
I’ve had some weird shit happen to me in my life – but this one was unique. This was truly a feeling of (potentially) being hunted – and in a way thinking like prey. The sight of that gun changed everything. My eyesight became crisp and sharp. I no longer heard the radio. My heart was racing, but my breathing was methodical. There was a nanosecond of “what if my kids end up with no mom?” but that thought left my head as fast as it showed up. Fear and panic were not an option, but they were a motivator.
When I realized it was over and the threat of that guy was gone, I took a few minutes to recover. I didn’t have a lot of time because I had an important meeting to go to. I didn’t even tell Husband about it until later that night when I was home and changing for bed. It was like I had forgotten about it until then.
It’s occurred to me that this post has no real purpose. I think I just wanted to be sure to capture this event somewhere before I forgot about it completely and it gets filed away in my brain under “More weird shit volume 24”.
So. Anyone else ever had something scary happen to them? How’d you deal with it? What would you have done differently?