I joke a lot about how being single is oftentimes better than being in a relationship or being married, however, there are sometimes when that is not the case.
I am a creature of habit. I don’t know why I am that way but I am. I find comfort in routine. I shop at the same stores, go to the same Starbucks, leave for work at the same time, return home around the same time, and the same goes for tennis, which I train for daily Monday through Friday. I never really thought much about my routine until tonight.
So I am pulling out of my driveway to leave for tennis practice and there’s a brotha standing at the end of my driveway on the street. When I pull all the way down to way to make my right hand turn, I notice that he’s just mad dogging a sista. I’m thinking, geez, just take a picture, it’ll last longer. But then it was time for me to go and that was that.
When I come back home 90 minutes later, I notice that a person is hiding behind the bush of my neighbors house. Well—to be honest, at the time, I didn’t think that they were hiding, I thought someone was bent down trying to get something. That was until I proceeded to pull up my driveway and noticed in my rear view mirror a man with a black hoodie on behind me.
I don’t think he expected me to make a u turn and back into my garage because when I did he tried to quickly hop the brick wall that separates my house from neighbors but I caught the tail end of him going over the wall out of the corner of me eye. And then the real creepy shit started.
Instead of hopping out of the car like I normally would, I sat there because something didn’t feel right. And sure enough, this guy kept peeping up over the brick wall looking at me–this time with the hoodie pulled all the way up around his face and tied so I couldn’t make him out.
We always say what we’d do in a situation like that but I gotta tell you—it doesn’t always happen that way.
When I get nervous as in my life is in danger, I get these uncontrollable shakes. My legs shake, my arms, and my hands. I can’t dial numbers on my phone and I can barely drive.
When I realized that I was about to be the victim of some crime, I bolted. I wanted to alert my neighbors, but I couldn’t dial. I wanted to honk my horn, but I was afraid this guy had a gun. The only thing I could think to do was speed my ass down the driveway and away from him.
I ended up going around the corner to the homeboys house and calling the police. Who, to their credit, showed up promptly. Of course by then, the guy was gone.
My homeboy Malik keeps reiterating to me that my routine is to predictable. Everybody who lives near me knows exactly when I am coming and going. And he’s right. The very nice LAPD officers, one of them a Black female said that I need to change it up but that I was doing better than most women because at least I was completely aware of my surroundings and what was going on.
I told them, living over here you have to be on your Ps and Qs. As it turns out I was right.
Needless to say, tomorrow your girl is going to get a can of mace and a knife to keep in her car. I’d get a gun to keep at home, but I don’t like them. In the meanwhile, the homeboy is coming over to spend the night because just in case anyone is watching there will be a big, tall Black man up at my house tonight.
Sorry, ladies, but tonight, I need a man, lol.
Special thanks to Malik and the LAPD for showing up with a helicopter and squad cars, I felt special and cared for and like my tax dollars were going to good use.