Saturday, January 30, 2010

The freaks come out at night

Have you ever seen a highway chase video?  My story has nothing incredible and does not compare to most high speed chases seen on YouTube or on television's Caught on Tape: High Speed Car Chases.  However; it qualifies for the "Wonderful things which only happen to Miss IPP" list.

In September 2008, I met a gentleman on a terrace.  Let's call him Matt because that's not his real name.  Matt appeared to be a very sweet and caring guy on our first dates; walking me back to my car and opening doors for me.  He even helped me paint my bathroom!  We listened to music, we laughed a lot.  Shortly after a month, I knew this guy was not for me.  He didn't exactly give me butterflies, his best girl was Marijeanne and that's a turn off for me.  I also thought he seemed to be giving me a bit of the cold shoulder for no appearant reason.  We were still seeing each other when he told me that he was a bit more distant because he was "expecting a girl to arrive in Montreal".  (My cue to leave).

The story he tells me is that their parents have arranged for her to come to Montreal live with him so she may study and get to know him in hopes of creating a couple out of the two.  The fact that I believed him or not is irrelevant.  The guy gets a gold star for thinking it up.  I have heard a lot of bullpoop stories in my life, but this is creative.  I also enjoy stories like these because it reassures me: THANK YOU for giving me yet another reason why I should no longer see you!

A month goes by and he still contacts me from time to time.  He tells me she has arrived and he doesn't love her; it won't happen.  Good for him. I don't really care.  He claims it's me he's thinking about.  Now Matt's gotta a point - why wouldn't he think of me?  But fact of the matter is, I am no fool and the sweet talk does not quite work for me this time.  He tells me I should apologize to him for ignoring him in the last month or so.  I put this together: "In order to receive your forgiveness, you will have a beautiful floral arrangement delivered to me.  I deserve nothing less.  I have a preference for daisies.  Multicolored daisies".  And I mean every word of it.  The following day, I am sitting at my desk and our receptionist brings me a really nice bouquet of multicolored daisies.  Miss IPP rocks, baby.

A colleague asks if they are from a secret admirer or "what I did to deserve the flowers".  If looks could kill, she would have taken a bullet to the shoulder (brachial nerve, isn't it?) to drop the knife she's holding to stab me.  Cat fight, anyone?

Over a week goes by.  I am on my Holiday vacation and I finally agree to a movie and coffee.  Before we even meet, I make clear that I am doing this almost as a favor and that nothing more than a movie and coffee should be expected out of the evening.  I have seen my movie and drank my coffee.  It's getting late and this girl wants to go home.  "Are you inviting me over?", he dares ask.  I wanna reply with "WTF?", and instead firmly answer that no, I am not.  He seems pissed, but I could not care less and, again, this is my cue to leave.  No means no.  I remind myself that this is the last time I deliberately meet with him.  I get in my car -not exactly a fast sports car- and leave.

Did I ever tell you my dad taught me how to drive?  You can get a dad to retire from the police, but you cannot get the tips and tricks out of a well-taught daughter.  (I guess that is also why I have incredible investigation skills.  LOL.  I use that a lot for work - should tell a story eventually).  I soon learned that, when driving, the car's mirrors are my best friends.  My attention and caution come right after.  I am heading east on the highway and put on my flicker to signal I am exiting.  I notice in my mirror that he also signals right.  Problem.  Matt lives approximately 20 kms east from where we are.  He has no reason to exit at the same place as I do except for one thing: he thinks he is following me home!  Oh no, you are not! is what I announce to him, speaking out loud to myself.

I look to my left and no one is in the right lane.  I am already in the exit lane by now and I swirve back in the right lane.  Matt sees me and has enough time to follow me lead. Me is not happy.  I pass the next exit and signal for the following one.  He does the same.  This time, I look at the traffic coming behind me in advance.  There is no one for a safe distance.  I move over into the exit lane and, at the last minute, swirve right back into the right lane.  There is not much traffic and he has the time to do exactly the same.  Now I am mad.  Can't he get a clue?  Doesn't he feel I want to lose him?  I look at the gas tank and she is nearly full (I know daddy - a full tank is very important!, almost as much as whitewalls.  LOL.  Only my family members will get this one).  "Ok, smart pants*.  I have plenty of time on my hands. Let's waste your time", I say out loud.
*Note from the author: the expression "smart pants" is not the one which was used.  The exact terms have been censored.

I take him for a spin across the tiniest little streets in town.  He follows me everywhere.  I drive for approximately forty-five minutes and it's approximately 1 am on December 29.  I am getting really tired of this.  In addition, I figure that, if he goes out of his mind and gets furious with me, there aren't too many witnesses around and I am being the idiot.  I am near a mall with a coffee shop opened 24 hours.  Safer.  I head there and figure I will let him know I am fully conscious I am being followed!  To do so, I spot a light post with no cars around in the middle of the parking lot and starting driving around in circles around the lamp post.  I must have circled the lamp post for 2-3 minutes and what is most scary is that he followed me all the time!  I assumed he would just get tired and leave or park the car and wait until the blood cloth left my brain.  I circle, I back up... he does the same.  I am worried someone will see us and call the cop shop.  Again, I don't want to be the idiot and now I am through with him.

How to lose a guy in the city?  I need traffic.  Where do I find traffic?  "Red light, green light, g-g-go.  Don't stop, don't pause, don't chill".  I leave the lamp post, the parking lot and head directly for the highway.  Have you ever been on Crescent Street in Montreal around 1:30 am during the Holidaze?  Traffic, here I come.  I enter the ramp for the highway and it's raining freezing rain.  The speed limit is 70.  Crazy here must be doing 120.  I do have spankin' new winter tires... for my defense!  I am on my way downtown and I am already certain he has lost my trace.  Still, I don't want to take the chance.  I see the exit for the bridge.  I signal right and take the exit.  I turn here, turn there, turn everywhere and confirm: I have lost him.  He must have continued to head downtown.  A minute later, my phone rings.  I see Matt's number and I do not pick.  He hangs up when he's redirected to my voice mail.  The phone rings again.

I decide to play innocent.  "Hello?  You have lost me?  What do you mean, you have lost me?"  He explains he was following me (he doesn't mention we drove in circles in a parking lot so I figure he was stoned and probably didn't notice).  I continue to play dumb for a minute, then I explode.  Yes, I knew he was following me and that is specifically why I didn't go home.  Since I took the exit for the bridge, I tell him I am off the island; which is not true because I took the last exit before the bridge and it gives me time to safely head back home without being followed.  I let out that he's a lunatic and tell him to leave me alone.  I didn't want him at my place then, I certinly do not want to see him ever again now.  (How do I get myself in such poop?)

I hang up the phone and arrive home.  There is not a person in sight.  There doesn't seem to be anyone in a parked car either (again, is that something only my sister, my mom and I notice?).  It's about 2 am now.  I park the car with the nose out ready to flee the scene (thank you daddy) and run inside the building, making sure the doors are safely closed behind me because at this point, I don't know what to expect from the Copycat Driver.  I enter my place, lock the door, put the alarm system on and reach for the blinds.  Fix it so you can see them and they can't see you.  I go to my computer.  He's trying to reach me on MSN.  My cell phone rings.  I receive a text message.  I am freaking out!  I know this guy, but almost all serial killers' neighbours will tell you that they "seemed like good, quiet people".  This is not exactly a reassuring thought at the moment.  God knows he could throw something through the window (see how the mind of a chronic anxious mind works?).  My phone is ringing off the hook.  He leaves messages.  "Call me back.  I just wanna come talk to you".  I am not terrified, but I am scared!

Luckily, a friend is up and online.  Pfew; company!  My online buddy tries to reassure me.  He tells me to call the cops.  It's past 2 am and I am home.  What am I going to tell them; to arrest this lunatic who keeps calling me?  Come on... I check the windows frequently and there is still no one in sight.  The charade goes on until about 3:30 in the morning when I finally send Matt a text message to tell him that all the calls he's placed and all text messages he's sent are tracked on my phone.  I can call the cops and they will have evidence of harrassment.  He begs me not to do so and promises to leave me alone.

I am unable to sleep and finally hit the sack around 7 am.  When I wake-up, it's almost time for the dinner party I have to attend.  I check my phone and he's called again, but only twice this time.  I call my sister and let her know the situation.  I tell her I actually wonder if he's parked next to my car waiting for me to come out; you know, to talk to me!  The freaks do come out at night!  I am on the phone with my sister and head out to my car.  There is no one in sight.  I am at the dinner party and I receive text messages.  It's almost flattering to see how addictive I am, but I don't contemplate that thought for long.  I send him a text message that isn't exactly gentle, but very politically correct and I inform him that I never want to hear from him again.  I got 4 quiet months before he sent me an email.

I have never seen him again.  I don't think he's as crazed and dangerous I thought he was that night, but I am glad I didn't let him come over that night.  All in MissIPP's life...

Do you have freak stories too?

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