PlatKat.com: Follow Me to the Fun! Wait, No, I'll Follow You.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Follow Me to the Fun! Wait, No, I'll Follow You.

When I was about 16 or so, my friend Andrea and I used to cruise around in her white 1980 Crown Victoria (lovingly referred to as the SS Pimp Daddy for its yacht-like size). Most of the time, we didn't have anywhere important to be, so we'd follow people for no reason. We didn't really have a profile by which we chose people to vigorously pursue; we'd usually just pick a car and go for it. We'd follow our target down boulevards, through fast food drive-thrus, around neighborhoods...

People really freak out when they're being followed.

One time, we followed some guy, probably about our age. It was nighttime. When he realized he was being followed, he tried to lose us by ducking into dark neighborhoods, turning on his left blinker and then turning right, taking sharp corners and accelerating, etc. This went on for a few hours. The guy started driving really fast and chain smoking. He finally pulled up to his house in a neighboring suburb and ran inside like we were Satan with a gun. I didn't know the guy, but that preppy fucker probably deserved it.

Another time, we followed some guy that looked like some other guy we knew, and had the same car. It was nighttime again. The guy was onto us, so he slowed down and changed lanes a few times, figuring we were just assholes that wanted to pass him. (I guess he didn't know that our breed of "asshole" existed yet.) After about an hour of tailing him down Ogden Avenue, he stopped in a parking lot, obviously scared and confused (unlike the prepster who was probably expecting revenge for one of his lame pranks). Turns out it wasn't the guy we knew, or even a guy like the guy we knew, but a dad with a kid in a car seat who was also wondering what the hell was going on. We saw this as we creepily drove past the car, only to see him calming down the child. We felt kinda bad, involving kids in our moronic psychological bender, but most dads don't have a mohawk pulled into a ponytail and drive around in a wood-paneled station wagon, ya know?

I've never had anyone follow me for no reason, but I don't think I'd freak out like these people did. Especially if they'd been following me for a long time and I didn't recognize them. What are they going to do? Try to mug me? After giving me ample time to realize they're following me and take down their license plate number? Yeah, I wouldn't do anything. I might get out and say "hi."

But what if that's what they want and they take out a gun and blow my head off?!?!

I guess I'd be dead then, huh.

posted by platkat @ 6:18 PM