Big Bummer

karoke2 

It's absolutely nothing for me to go out by myself. In fact, I rather prefer not having to deal with other people, i.e. providing rides or getting rides, and being subject to a friend's moods and/or drinking habits. I can go out if and when I want and leave when I want, with zero drama. For nearly a year now, I've jumped in my car and gone to karaoke, alone and on my own terms.

I feel safe at the places I frequent because I know almost everyone there, and I trust they'd have my back in any hassle. These guys won't hesitate to toss some dude who is disrespectful to one of the ladies.

A swell time was had by all last night, and it was great to see them after being away for awhile. The crowd was in a good mood and there was little drama, comparatively, with the break-up of Dragonfly and Mike providing entertainment in the form of a massively drunk Dragonfly being attended-to by Irish, and Mike trying to lay his mack down on a barful of horrified women.

I don't drink anymore, so I just chatted with friends and sang a few songs. It felt like the perfect karaoke evening.

Imagine my surprise then, when I'm driving home last night, singing to the radio, and an SUV roars up behind me, flashing its lights. Since I am not completely mental, I sped up to a 24-hour diner with a well-lit parking lot before pulling over. I was relieved to see one of the karaoke guys; a sweet, happily married guy with kids--I thought maybe he was trying to tell me there was something wrong with my car.

He motioned me to come over to his car and asked me to get in. I told him no, I was going straight home to bed. He asked me for a hug and, since we karaoke klowns all hug one another all the time, I did. He grabbed me tight and kissed my hair. He asked me to get in again, and said, "Don't worry, I won't rape you---unless you want me to." That's when I split.

He followed me a little while, but I managed to lose him. By the time I reached home I was in a full panic attack. Yeah, he's just a drunk idiot, but it just so happens that in 2003-2004 I was terrorized by a stalker for real. You might say I'm a little sensitive to these things.

It's time to rethink my solo outings idea. It's recently come to my attention that it's not especially safe to do so. From now on, I go out with at least one other person or not at all. And if whats-his-guts says one word to me I don't like, he's toast.

Off to ponder what it is about me that attracts stalker loonbags...