Monday, October 22, 2012

Drug Induced What If Questions

Sometimes something happens and it's so weird you just have to share.

I really wish that some of the things I choose to share with you readers I was making up. Well, I mean, the stories I write and such like that obviously I made up. I meant the other odd shit, like the time I got physically assaulted by an otaku in Barnes and Nobles. Things like that. Stuff that's just really weird and make you go, "Nobody would ever act like that in their right minds."

I had just gotten off work at midnight and was making my way to my car. For some time now I've been parking my car at the "back" of my work where the fast food restaurants and the road are. Just in case something were to happen and someone were to drive by and see. It just seems safer than at the actual back where there is nothing but a big hill and trees. I say "back" because my work faces the back, so the rear is really the front and vice verse.

I had to park a little ways down from the corner because my friend had taken my parking spot. On my way to my car I saw some random guy trudging through the parking lot. I wasn't really scared at first. A little nervous because it was really late at night and no one was around, not even cars, but I thought that maybe it was one of our security guards. Although they're usually walking around the building itself, not slowly walking through the parking lot. I decided to just keep my head down, keep an eye on him, not engage eye contact and quickly get in my car. Even if it was just the security guard, he's a creeper too, so I didn't really want to talk to him if I didn't have to. I had covered about half the distance to my car when he called out to get my attention. I didn't really want to get into a conversation, but he was still standing in the middle of the parking lot and didn't seem like he was going to come over. That's what I was worried about ignoring him for. I didn't want him to come over and try and tap my shoulder or get my attention that way.

I turned my head in his direction, unlocking my car door with the little button pad while I continued walking to the car. I asked him what he wanted and this is the question that followed.

"Hey miss, do you...do you know what would happen to me, or what would happen to my arm.", he began in a voice that said 'I may or may not have been smoking crack tonight...but I probably have'. "Do you know what would happen to my arm if I were to take my arm from here.", he continued, pointing to his elbow and gesturing down the rest of his arm length. "To here and cut it off. Or no, not cut it off, but just got rid of all the veins and capillaries and stuff in it. Do you think it would bleed out?"

It was at this point that I had questioned my logic in opening the passenger side door and putting my bags away first while he talked, instead of just getting in the drivers side and tossing them on the other seat from behind the safety of a locked car door. I briefly wondered if I should just get in the passenger side and scooch over to the driver's side. I was worried that would look weird and odd, because people don't normally get in their cars like that. Then I remembered there was a probably drugged up homeless man asking me about a potential arm debridement, if not cutting it off entirely. We have already gone past just "looking weird".

I shut the door and held up my hand, giving him this lopsided grin and shaking my head.

"Sorry man, I don't really know.", I said, crossing over to the other side of the car now and opening the door. I began to get in and realized he was still talking to me. I watched him from the rear view mirror as I got myself situated. Before I closed the door, I was rewarded with this little snippet.

"I mean, would the blood just pool in it, it can't bleed out, there's nowhere for it to go. Do you think that the rest of the veins would just suck the blood back up into the rest of my body?"

I shut the door and locked it. As he walked away all I could say was, "What the fuck Dundalk?"

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm flypaper for the crazies. I'm not sure why but they are certainly drawn to me. On the plus side though, I do come away with funny (in retrospect anyway) stories. What can I say, my pain is your pleasure.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I wish my comment form was shiny.