What past situation could have made you a murder victim?
Something risky and dumb you did?
One that comes to my mind is one winter, I chatted with a guy on Bear411 and drove 40 mi. out in the country to meet him. He lived in a very old cabin-like thing (early 1800's) way out in the sticks.
I ended up sharing his bed that night in that freezing house.
We never spoke again.
I was mugged in Brooklyn about six years ago by two young guys; they pinned me to the ground, used a razor to relieve me of my wallet, and ran.
Dumbly, I chased them. Like, what did I think I was going to do if I caught them? They were armed; I was not. Idiot me.
I slept with a super butch closet case in college. The next time I saw him he pulled a gun and said "I just wanted you to know I have this."
There was no repeat.
I don't generally engage in risky behavior. Probably adopting out some kittens back when I was a kid. My cat had a litter and I found owners via the internet (I had the net early) and they didn't know anyone was coming to the house to pick them up. I sounded extremely young and it was obvious I was doing it alone. *shrug* No back alley hook ups to recount.
Great thread topic, by the way.
Any of the one night stands I indulged in back in the 70's could easily have been with a murderer. It seemed perfectly okay at the time and we all did it but it definitely wasn't safe.
Lots of things I did when young that now aren't safe. Hitchhiking, walking home to save fare after 3 am through sketchy neighborhoods, picking up guys and going to abandoned buildings, taking rides to strange guys homes with no way of getting back.
When I was home over Christmas break from college 10 years ago, I went out to a local gay bar and met this cool, hot guy. We went back to his friend's creepy fucking apartment building/tenement in a bad side of town so he could smoke crack (I thought we were picking up weed). He dragged me into the bathroom of his friend's apt, started smoking from a crack pipe and tried to get me to puff (I didn't), and another guy who lived in the apt started banging on the bathroom door to open up. The guy I was with had apparently stole some of the guys crack. The other guy kicked the bathroom door in, grabbed him, put a knife to his neck and I ran as fast as I could out of there and through the terrifying and confusing corridors of the building down to my (mom's) car, tried to take off, and the car stuck in the snow. While I was trying to get out, the guy I was originally with made it out and into my car and I told him to get the fuck lost. After an hour I finally got out of the snow.
It was really scary.
Raped at gunpoint and dropped off in Harlem one winter night.
When I was about 8 I was at the County Fair with my aunt and her best friend, and her best friend's son, who was also 8. The adults were about 50 feet ahead of us when we just entered the grounds, and the stream of people cut us off from them, when suddenly, an older, bearded, lumberjack, hefty man accosted us, held us tight together and stared down at our scared little faces. It seemed to last forever, but it was probably 10 seconds. He decided to let us and go and we walked to the adults without saying a word.
Another time, when I was about the same age, probably a year or two later, a robber at a small grocery mart pulled a gun at my mother and I and she tried to hand her purse to him and he didn't take it, and ran off.
And another time, as a college student on vacation at my parents home, I met with an online hookup, who didn't give me his phone number, we met via email communication. We met at the parking lot of a mall and I got into his car, he took me to a canyon neighborhood for public sex near the ravines where the backyards of the homes would face. After the deed, as he drove me through the dark roads leading out of the canyons, he asked me about the student that went missing at my college. He brought it up when I told him I went to that school, but the missing case happened two years prior, and I thought it strange that he would ask me about it. I looked at the car door to see where I would have to unlock the door in case of an escape, but nothing happened. The missing college kid was my same age and he went missing from his dorm, leaving his wallet behind, with his last scent being traced at a bus stop near campus.
Weird you should post this, OP. I have three examples and all occurred between Oct 22-26.
I was robbed at gunpoint on the Chicago L. He didn't shoot me because the gun jammed. Then, the next year, I was robbed again at gunpoint on Maple and Dearborn (a generally nice neighborhood) at 8 pm. I just handed over my wallet. Last year, I was at a Wells Fargo when it was robbed.
I'm laying low until the end of the week.
I went to Brooklyn once. And then there was that one time I had to fly commercial.
I got mugged one night in central London and, against all logic, tried to argue/fight my way out of it. There was no weapon involved, just force, and I think it pissed me off.
You spend your whole life thinking you'd cave like a little girl and all of sudden there's a he man in there after all. Who fucking knew?
But the next day I'm beating myself up for not just co operating and giving him the money, because you can't predict the outcome. Stupid of me.
20 years ago my roommate did drag shows at the local bar. One night after work he brought home a drunk straight guy who didn't know he wasn't a girl. The guy was beyond pissed when he figured out what was up; I could hear yelling and my roomate's screams through the wall. I was convinced we were all going to die.
Then the guy passed out drunk and left hung over and amused the next morning. But he could have been a killer!
I got in a car with a guy who was a complete stranger who made a pass at me. I had very low self esteem. I'm lucky I didn't get killed.
Unstable woman threatened to kill herself and me by smashing into a tree by the side of the road in her car.
I brought a guy home to blow and he first tried to tie me up and when I got away he took out a large knife and tried to stab me in the back. He got scared and split. He had taken off his belt to restrain me, he left that behind. His name was tooled into the belt. His name was Miguel.
This was many years ago. That belt still hangs on the back of my closet door as a reminder of what almost was. The belt speaks to me, "you are better than that, you know where you have been."
About 25 years ago, around midnight, I was helping a very drunk friend back to his apt. in the Village.
At one point, he lurched into the street and was very nearly hit by a town car that slammed on its brakes. My friend pounded on the hood and a huge guy leaped out dressed like Central Casting's idea of a pimp. There were also three women in the back seat.
I dragged my friend away and held him against a wall. (He's small and was drunkenly spoiling for a fight.) The huge guy was getting closer and reaching into his pocket when one of girls called, "Honey, is your friend drunk?"
I yelled, "YES!" and the big guy stopped and said, "Take your f** friend home!" Honor served.
Bless that hooker. She saved us from a bad beat down or maybe worse.
My friend eventually joined AA and still doesn't remember the incident.
I had very low esteem as a teen/young adult and went home with anyone I found attractive. Any of those encounters could have gotten me murdered.
Wow, there are some very peculiar stories in here!
The only story I can recall where I was very close to danger is from when I was 9 years old. My mother had picked me from school and we walked home through a very busy commercial road, which was closed to traffic. We liked to stop at the windows of a record store that was in the beginning of the road, just as you turned the corner. All of a sudden a guy, I imagine that he must have been about 20 or so, came out of the store and started talking to me in a really creepy way.
Innocently, I thought nothing of it, but my mother got instantly defensive and dragged me away. That guy followed us all the way through, loudly begging my mother to "allow him to play with me", saying that he "wanted to take care of me" and promising that he would buy me chocolate and toys. My mother tried to keep him away from me and they started to shove each other as we rushed through the crowd; by then, many people had noticed what was happening and they were all stopping and staring back. Finally, as he tried to reach and grab me, by mother pushed him and he fell back into a massive guy, who decided to "have a talk" with that weird stalker.
The only thing I remember is looking back as my mother and I were running away, and saw a crowd of people gathering around the big guy and the creep who had been following us, both of whom were shouting.
The memory still freezes my blood... I never imagined that anyone could be so fucking insane as to harass a mother and her little child in such a way.
When I was 16 I was followed for several blocks in what was then some empty streets in the Village (NYC) one night. When I quickened my step so did whoever was following me. The only place open was this tiny Greek restaurant. I ran in there, obviously looking very scared. The man behind the counter asked me what's going on. I told him. He went outside with a baseball bat. There was this huge, both fat and tall guy waiting out there. He ran off when this restaurant guy came out. I will forever be grateful to him for the rest of my life. He let me use the phone to call my parents and tell them what happened and that I needed to take a taxi back to my Brooklyn home, which of course they said yes to. The Greek guy went outside with me when the cab came and made sure I got in safely.
Oh, BTW my mom got on the phone and thanked him, over and over again and a couple of days later my dad went there to thank him in person. My dad said he offered this guy a hundred bucks and he wouldn't take it. He just told my dad maybe I shouldn't be out at that hour by myself.
Actually I was coming home from a music lesson, but I switched after that to a teacher in Brooklyn that I could get to right after school, before it got dark.
I know this guy following my meant harm. I felt it in every bone in my 98 pound weakling 16 year old body.
December 25, 1996.
R7: what happened?
When I was in my twenties, I visited New York alone. I got ridiculously drunk, met a guy in a bar, went back to his place and passed out in his bed. Nothing bad happened, but if the guy was nuts, my life could have easily ended that night.
When JWH-018 was still legal, I tried it as synthetic pot. The heart racing, palsy of both hands, vision problems, and weird muscle spasms were bad.
I was manic for three weeks after I stopped and I lost a ton of weight in my face. When Charlie Sheen put on his show, I thought he was repeating my behavior.
Then I read about all the hospitalizations from use of Spice (which uses JWH-018).
A few years ago I was walking alone at night in DC, in a not so great part of town when I was robbed at gunpoint. Scared me shitless and can't believe how careless and stupid I was.
I was molested by an Italian guy in the south of Italy some 20 years ago. He grabbed my crotch and then followed me into my tent, me and a friend were camping on the beach (It was a remote beach and my friend and me and the guy and another guy were the only people around). He did not know I had a knife in the tent. If he had come any closer sticking his face into the tent I would have stabbed him. The guy was absolutely disgusting. I always think if I didn't have a knife with me, he would have raped me, or at least he would have tried.
So many things but I don't want to bore you.
I do take chances.
[quote]We never spoke again.
Did you cut each other's tongue's out?
So many of these threads do not describe someone at risk; they describe someone who might have been at risk had circumstances been different, which basically describes everyone at all times.
In my 20s I went through a phase where I would drive up and down the interstate enticing late night truckers. After one particular encounter the guy and I were in the back cab, intertwined, and as I started to get up he pulled me back down and started to squeeze me aggressively with his arm around my face...making breathing a little difficult. I felt a flash of panic as he was larger than me so instead of freaking out and trying to resist I just kind of went limp in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
After that he relaxed and I was able to get up. It was definitely a scary experience and broke me of my risky behavior cycle.
When I with two male teenager friends (I was a couple years older [was and remain male]), when they decided we were going to pick up some teenage girls (I wasn't out). We stopped at a convenience store when the girls told another car full of guys that we were going to a party and that they should follow us. There was no party. The girls were just messing with them. They started chasing us. My friend stupidly drove out into the country. After we avoided careening off a notorious bend in the road, the other car forced us off the road. They got out and surrounded our car. My two friends were scared shitless. I turned into an angry alpha-male long enough to let the gentlemen know there was no party and that our lady friends were joking with them. They got back in their car and left.
When I first moved to Seattle in the late 80's, I was at Neighbors. Don't know if it still exists.
I was young and naive (early 30's) and hooked up with this guy who had one of those Vanilla Ice haircuts. I drove him back to my place but first he had to stop at this place to get some Crystal. I didn't know what Chrystal was. Lemonade?
We get back to my place, and he won't undress for sex. We sort of fumbled around and then he told me I should be more careful because he could kill me. I thought, ok, I'm about to be murdered.
In the mid-80's I went to a piano bar in Atlanta (first time I'd ever been in the city) and flirted with an adorable blonde waiter. He asked me if I wanted to go to a party in Alabama (!?) after he got off work. Being half in the bag I said yes. By the time he got off work, I was really hammered and somewhere along the road I passed out in his car. The next thing I remember was waking up as the sun was coming up and we were pulling up in front of his apartment, back in Atlanta.
He was a real southern gentleman, took me upstairs, made me coffee, and while I tried to sober up, he paraded around in one stunning gown after the other, wanting my opinion of each one. Seems he was about to compete in some pageant and hadn't decided on what to wear yet.
While I was grateful he didn't kill me and toss me out by the side of Highway 20, I lament the fact I never got the chance to get fucked by that huge cock he kept teasing me with everytime he changed outfits. Sigh.
Going to school.
Beat up, face smashed in, raped and left for dead. Essentially, murdered, everything stolen except for credit cards and id.
Once, when I was in summer band camp, I put a flute up my pussy.
Some guy chatted me up at The Townhouse bar one night in 1992. He was drinking scotch and kinda had a queeny Shepard Smith- like face. I wasn't attracted to him much but he was a little insistent. I was wasted and for a 1/2 second I considered going home with him but right at that moment my best friend came in unexpectedly with a group of guys from a nearby party they had all been at. They came over and absorbed me into the group and the guy disappeared.
The next time I was there the bartender said the guy was a regular and had been asking about me and if went I there often. Seeing that I was freaked out a little the bartender just said "Oh Richard is harmless. He's just some nurse from Staten Island." I saw him a few more times at the bar and would just nod to him.
Anyway...years later I open the New York Times and who is staring right at me but the guy: Richard Rogers. Better known as the Last Call Killer. (he took drunk guys home, drugged them then dismembered their bodies, dumping them in trash bags al over jersey and pennsylvania).
Close. Motherfucking. Call.
R18 anyway that guy could have been retarded or something? I can't imagine a pedophile openly trying kidnap a kid from the parents in the middle of the sidewalk. What year was that?
In the late 80s-early 90s, When I was in my late teens and early 20s, I was traveling a lot across the United States on my way to college. I did an Alaska - California trip solo once, and then dropped out of college for a couple of years, and then transferred out of my L.A. college to one on the East Coast. I spent a year trying to get that transfer to stick, but kept running into financial troubles and having to drive home, back to Alaska.
I criss-crossed the US four times during this time. I couldn't afford hotels, and my parents were unhelpful, so my main strategy was sleeping in the car at truck stops. I'd gotten the idea that this was the safest way to go. Truckers would knock on my windows, waking me up, to see whether I was "waiting to meet someone." (later I found out that the assumption was that I was a "lot lizard.")
The scariest place I stayed was an abandoned truckstop in rural Saskatchewan, just over the US border. Near Carrollton, Georgia, I was chased for 30 or 40 miles down the interstate by a trucker who definitely had some purpose in mind. I tended to drive well into the middle of the night, assuming that with mostly truck drivers on the highway in these long expanses of nothing in states like Texas and New Mexico, that I'd be safer in part because truckers have deadlines and have better things to do than chase young women in cars at 3 am. This was of course when there was at least one active serial killer on this route.
R37, it was 1991.
He didn't behave like a person with diminished mental capabilities at all. Moreover, he wouldn't relent in his attempts to grab me, which became increasingly aggressive as my mother tried harder and harder to keep me away from him. He was elbowing my mum as he tried to get her out of the way and that's when she pushed him away, and he got really physical with her, like he was close to hitting her. When she didn't back up, he only got more insistent.
I have a cousin who suffers from borderline mental retardation and she knows what is appropriate what is not, and she clearly understands it when people say "no" and "please, stop". That guy was just creepy and weird, and kept looking at me in the same way that you look at someone you're in love with. It was just bizarre and he was obviously deeply disturbed. I can only thank the fact that my mother was equally aggressive trying to defend me, and that big guy decided that things had gone far enough.
It's unbelievable how effing crazy some people are.
R38 it's suspected that many long haul truckers are tied to serial killings. It's a perfect job for them. They can nab someone, kill them and dump them in another state. In Houston, where I am, the I-45 Corridor Killer dumping ground (or the Killing Fields) is actually suspected of being several killers some of whom are probably truckers.
I once got into a fight with the relative of a local mobster. When I saw the guy on TV being arrested a few months later, I suddenly realized how stupid I was.
For me I would say, getting in cars with strangers and giving rides to strangers.
When I was 18 and a college freshman, I walked every day a few miles from my dorm to a real estate office I worked as a Girl Friday. My route allowed me to pass a car repair shop, the guys always outside working on cars. Always polite, I would wave and smile and say Hello to them as I walked by.
One evening, dusk, I was walking from the office to go home when a car pulled up next to me. It was one of the repair shop mechanics, offering me a ride home, I accepted: i was wearing heels and my feet could use a break.
We chatted for a few. Then, all of a sudden, he hit the button that locked all the car's doors. He had the most evil look on his face when he turned to me and said, " you know I can make it so no one ever sees you ever again." I was horrified, yet calmness took control. I lied to him, saying my mother was to meet me on campus that evening, and if I didn't show up she would instantly miss me.
Somehow that was enough to let him decide to let me go and I ran in those tight shoes the last mile to my dorm room. Stupidly, I didn't call the police; instead, I simply took a different route after that day, never going past the repair shop, and deciding to never accept another ride from anyone. I wonder if he ever hurt anyone before or after me, and I feel terribly that I didn't report him to prevent it. I guess I was selfishly relieved to survive. I was a dumb kid.
But did you get his name, R43?
My friend and I were in Singapore on vacation. We took a day trip on a ferry to Indonesia. When we got off the ferry, a number of men were offering taxi rides. We got inside one of the taxis and the driver and his friend took us on a tour of the island.
Turns out they weren't taxi drivers. There was no proof that they were, we just took their word for it. Thank God they were nice guys and didn't try to rape and/or kill us.
[quote]So many of these threads do not describe someone at risk; they describe someone who might have been at risk had circumstances been different, which basically describes everyone at all times.
Agreed. A few of these anecdotes truly do seem like near misses. The one one about the guy who was aggressively cruised by the Last Call Killer (I looked him up) was particularly creepy.
What an unsettling, yet provocative, thread.
When I was 15, my mother and I moved into a new home which had a ton of problems, so we had workmen coming by every few weeks to fix something or other.
One incident involved a plumber. He seemed normal, but my dog was instantly suspicious and a bit scared of him, and this got my attention.
The guy tried to bluff that "Oh, he probably just smells my dog, heh heh," but I firmly believe that dogs can sense our emotions and intentions and that this was an evil man.
After an initial look at our kitchen sink, the man went back to his truck to get some equipment. While he was there, I got myself an apple and a large paring knife and sat at the kitchen table.
When the guy came back in and saw me with the knife, he seemed surprised and a bit... disappointed, maybe?
So I stayed at the table, peeling and eating my apple and watching the guy carefully while he worked.
It's possible the guy had no evil intentions and that this is another not-scary anecdote.
But I firmly believe that the man was evil, and that if I hadn't been so blatant in making my defenses known, he would have tried to rape me or worse.
Relevant note: in the years before and after that incident, my city had a serial rapist who only attacked in the summer and who got into houses by claiming to be a workman. Maybe this was the same guy, or a copycat?
Raped by my teacher at age 17. She pointed a gun at me before hand but not during.
Robbed at gunpoint last week at work.
I used to hitchhike home from gay bars in San Diego in 1997. It would have been ridiculously easy to murder me.
What happened, r50?
Many years ago -- the 1990s -- I was at a business acquaintance's house on a Saturday to pick up some papers when she had a home invasion. We were in the living room and her husband walked in from the garage looking dead white with a guy behind him pointing a gun into his back. (This was in a nice neighborhood with security alarm signs everywhere, etc.)
The gunman put us all in the living room face down while making the house's owners tell him where the jewelry was kept, if they had any money around, etc. I had to hand over my wallet. It probably took about 10 minutes but it felt like hours. Finally he said not to move for 5 minutes, we heard the door close, and that was it.
I stuck around for the police report, but the cops never got in touch with me again. The woman was no more than a business acquaintance on a brief deal with my company, and I never saw her again either.
I cruised a guy in Loring Park and he said he had a place nearby. He ended up being a landlord and we went to an "empty" apartment that contained a couch, tv, VCR and nothing else. He told me there were some beers in the fridge and that I could grab some . I come back to the living room and find him jacking his huge cock while the tv. /VCR is playing with the sound down/ off. I'm thinking " fuck yeah!!" Let's do this. I come around to face the tv to put my beer down and get naked. I then see what's playing on the tv, this sick fucker was watching some recorded footage of WW2. The shit where massive amounts of emaciated bodies are being dumped in pits and/ or loaded off trucks. Holocaust shit. He says that he finds "this shit hot". He had the craziest fucked up look on his face that I've never seen since in 23 years. Instantly fight or flight kicks in. I chucked the beer at his head and took off. I don't remember unlocking the door or running down the hallway. I just remember vomiting in the alley and then figuring out how to get back to my car without him following me. Ever since then I always would plan out escape routes if I ever went to a strangers house or apartment. And to always carry a box cutter too.
That was incredibly lame R48.
I was 17, working in the fish canneries in my home town in south-central Alaska. I convinced my best friend (both of us female) that we should hitch the 20-minute car ride back into town between shifts rather than walk it. I'm not sure why she wasn't driving that day, but she wasn't.
We got picked up by a guy in his 40s/50s in a pickup, who refused to drop us off. He started talking repeatedly about "little girls who get murdered because they're hitchhiking". He only let us off when I claimed that the car following us was my dad - "Hey, Dad!", waving - and I don't think el creepo was just trying to teach us a lesson either.
Nor did I learn the lesson immediately, either. All of the four other incidents I have had (three in Alaska, one in Seattle) getting into strangers' cars have had the threat of abduction or rape explicitly or implicitly stated. I was just a free-spirited hippie kid (female and attractive), and after I turned 23 I have never hitchhiked or accepted a ride again. I figured a 100% pervert rate was "saying" something and eventually I listened.
I was heavily into bondage from the time I was sixteen into my early 40's. I was a "switch"; I enjoyed tying but was willing to be tied. I picked up a lot of guys or was picked up at leather bars (usually safe) but also on the street and if someone was my type, b/d, no pain came up. I did get tied up in my place(s), and in theirs and oddly never was robbed or beaten. The most scary were those who got into it more heavily than I did who, when they tied me, really went to town, gagged me and could really have hurt/killed me. A few of these kept me tied up and gagged longer than I wanted but thinking back on it I'm amazed I was never hurt (some rope burn aside).
Hi r55! It's r38. Are you the Kenai DLer?
it's suspected that many long haul truckers are tied to serial killings. It's a perfect job for them. They can nab someone, kill them and dump them in another state.
Some people just need killing.
Well, Kenai Peninsula, R38. Are you the Mat-su or the Fairbanks poster?
[quote]When I was in my twenties, I visited New York alone. I got ridiculously drunk, met a guy in a bar, went back to his place and passed out in his bed. Nothing bad happened, but if the guy was nuts, my life could have easily ended that night.
I once passed someone in the street, and if he had had explosives tied all over his body, and had detonated them at that instant, I could have died.
[quote]Well, Kenai Peninsula, [R38]. Are you the Mat-su or the Fairbanks poster?
No - ANC.
when I was 16 I went with a boyfriend to visit his drunkard mother in new mexico, several states away. it was a horrible disaster. she took one look at me and decided she hated me. she got extremely drunk the first night, invited a few of her friends in their 40s over to meet her son, all of which were all over him, really creepy sexually charged. I think she wanted them to have sex with him. the more drunk she got the more shed glare at me, muttering about slapping me and saying horrible untrue things about he, eventually ranting and raving that she'd like to "stab the little cunt" so I hid, locked in a bedroom. the next day she acted as if nothing happened, boyfriend said it was best to just pretend as if nothing happened, so I did. stupidly. then we went on a day trip to some mountains. we met up with a completely hammered couple. she insisted that boyfriend and I get into the car with them to go for a drive. everything in me told me to not get into that car, but I did it anyway. half way up the couple got in a fight and the man started driving way too fast, ripping around the dirt roads with a cliff off to one side. the wife who was sitting behind him started pulling his hair and punching him in the face, everyone was screaming, he wouldn't stop the car, and if he hadn't decided to close his eyes to yell "I am going to kill us all" just at that moment we wouldn't have hit that tree that stopped us from flying over the cliff. I walked back down the mountain, had to force my boyfriend to come with me and was so scared and in complete shock. I had never been around any people like this in my life. we got to a town and called a cab, his mother had put all of my belongings outside and stole all of my money from my suitcase. she told me her son was to stay with her, but I needed to hitch a ride to Albuquerque where I could stay at a homeless shelter until I could catch my flight home. my boyfriend came with me, we called his dad who paid for a hotel and got us tickets out of there.
I think we're around the same age, R61. My family used to buy bagels from the bakery where the serial killer Robert Hansen worked. I don't know if that put us close to death or not, but I remember my early teens in the eighties with a rather sleazy vibe, and the bush pilot stuff falls in with the general "mileu". Like I remember Fourth Avenue before it got cleaned up and it was very sketchy. I can't believe I ever thought it was safe to hitch, either. I think my first experience hitching in Alaska (picturesque Nikiski) actually involved a man taking out a Hustler and starting to masturbate while I sat there in the passenger seat, frozen, a 14-year-old girl, then lied about where my parents' house was and I ran off into the woods.
That sounds truly horrific, R62.
Was in the UK traveling for a few days by myself in my early 20s (female, attractive). Went hiking by myself in the woods in Wales for hours, got a little lost, came upon a field and accepted a ride from a random farmer. Thank heavens he was just helping me out - no one knew where I was or would have missed me.
I meant R63 - R62 is me!
So anyway. R63: sounds awful.
Wait. It was R62 after all with the terrible tree crash story. I give up. I'll take this opportunity to correct my own spelling of milieu, however. As if AK could ever have one anyway.
I forgot to lower the key on the bridge of The Good Ship Lollipop during the Little Miss Snowflake pageant and mommy glared at me, muttering, "Sharper than a serpent's tooth is that stupid child!"
One time on DL, I mentioned that the Olive Garden was pretty good.
Your most deadly situation was a kitten adoption, r3? Your life IS the most dangerous game!
I need to stay away from this thread or you will all think I have a death wish. But it was just shit that happens, really.
When I was much younger, I was taking the train to Boston. I smoked Dunhill Light cigarettes and they could be difficult to find so I went across the street to the smoke shop in the hotel across from Penn Station (NYC). On my back across the street, with the light changing and the traffic coming, I realized that the oncoming cars were not my only problem.
Right in front of me, not even three feet away was a guy who had his back to me. He was naked to the waist and was holding a HUGE machete with a curved blade. He was facing three cops who all had their guns drawn. They were about six feet away from me and were pretty much pointing their weapons at me because I was right behind machete guy.
I couldn't cross because cars were whizzing past, and the only access to the sidewalks was blocked by lethal weapons. I could have been dead in so many ways.
R45 - I knew his first name, then, but has since forgotten it. I will always regret not reporting him.
r63 that sounds about right. Nikiski? Ugh. I was there in August. It is exactly the same if you haven't been there recently. It does sound like we did grow up there around the same time. I never went to Bob Hansen's bakery but I did see John Cusack and Nicolas Cage around town filming that direct to video movie about him.
There were a lot of kidnapper vans in AK in the 70s-80s. BTW have you seen the Anchorage in the 70s photoblog?
Would love the link to the 70s blog if you have it, R74. Thanks!