It occurred to me last night that I have never really wrote down that I’ve almost been kidnapped. Twice.
Sure, I’ve told my husband the stories, but really in passing. Like that happens to everyone. Little Johnny was almost picked up by a stranger today, isn’t that hysterical?? I remember when my first kidnapping happened. Ahhh! Memories!
Yeah, no. Not even close.
It started one morning when I was walking to the bus stop. Completely like any other morning, I hated the fact that I had to go to school… I hated the fact that I had to walk to the damn bus stop. Again. Didn’t I do that crap yesterday? I mean, Gosh, *hair flip*, Do they expect me to continue this injustice? We lived out in the boonies by the standards of the locals, but to be honest, now that I am grown, I realize it wasn’t really that far out of the city limits. I had to walk, like half a block to the bus stop, and since my brother had already graduated, I was flying solo.
My momma, bless her, is awesome. She’d be in the middle of getting ready to go work, or having her breakfast, but she’d stand outside on the porch and watch me and make sure I got on the bus safely. Hopefully, it was to see that I got on the bus safely, and not that I was ditching. But, I wasn’t that kind of kid so I don’t think that was something that she would even think of. (Shut up! I was a good kid. Weird, right?) I’d climb in the bus and she’d go about her business. Easy, peasy. Okay, there were a few times she’d have to stop what she was doing when the crazy bus driver would drive right past me because she didn’t see me and high tail me to school, but that’s another story. That bus driver was nuts. Think like an angry bus driver that smokes. Probably weed. Think the bus driver from The Simpsons but a woman, and mean and always angry.
(Isn’t weed supposed to like..Calm you down? That just hit me. What the hell was her problem then?)
I’m almost 30 years old and still to this day, that driver was a person I don’t want to meet on a dark night in a alley.
(Okay, sometimes I did.) (Want to that is…I didn’t actually go and meet her in a dark alley and throw down like some weird fight club.)
(Wouldn’t that be hysterical? Bus driver fight club!)
(If any of you bastards take my idea, you have to give me monies. And a mention. And if it goes into a movie or something, someone HOT better play me.)
(If you get someone like Octo-mom to play me, we’re gonna box. Me and you. Yeah, you.)
Anyways, I’m getting lost here. Back to the story:
One morning, I had arrived to the bus stop early. TOTAL miracle there, by the way. My M O was to arrive just as the bus was arriving so I wouldn’t have to wait. I was too “cool” to stand around waiting for the bus to stop. My mom and I had a total system, because the bus would pass and go to the end of the street, turn around and then start picking up kids. When the bus passed the first time, my mom would yell that it’s passed and then I’d hurry my butt up to the corner (*snicker*) and usually I’d meet the bus as it was pulling up to the stop. Anyway, while I was standing there I remember some guy in a suburban drive past me, and I’m, of course, off in la-la land staring off into space. I remember the suburban thing was blue and white. (That’s all I remember at the moment of the truck.)
Just about the time I started to wonder where in the hell the dang bus was, the blue suburban pulled up in front of me. (He had went down the street and turned around and slowly inched down the road.) Like, literally an inch from my feet. Think that set of any alarms? NAH! We lived in a small town, I just figured they wanted to know directions or my luck, they were someone I was related to that were wanting to talk. (I had family that lived on that corner. See? Small town.) But no. This guy was a young, sweaty-nervous, Hispanic guy with a cap on. He wanted to know where the golf course was. That’s what set the alarms off. You could see the damn golf courses from where I was standing! So, because I was second guessing that feeling in my stomach, quickly told him,”Two blocks up, and hang a left. You’ll drive right into it.” Which that was true. Instead of saying okay, thanks and driving off, things got hinky. He told me to get in.
Like a damn after school special, he actually told me to get in his vehicle while he looked around. I did the most insane thing that I could have done at the moment. I got incredulous. (By the way, totally proud of myself that I spelled incredulous without getting spell check yelling at me. *snicker*) I laughed,”WHAT?” (Oh my God, I laughed at a kidnapper. Such an idiot.) When he repeated his demand, I pointed over my shoulder.
“You see that woman over there on the porch? That’s my mom. She’s about 2 seconds away from getting in her car, coming down here and you’ll have her to deal with.”
He took off.
I turned around and waved to my momma until she waved back and got on the bus.
And that was the second time I almost got kidnapped.
P.S. The reason I remember what I told him is because frankly, my family was annoyed/shocked that I had the balls to actually say that and I’ve had to repeat that story so many times that it kind stuck. *shrug*