It's Like Being a Guest Blogger, Only It's Not

Memoir Monday credits to Travis from I Like to Fish


As part of my college experience at Duquesne University, I used to cook for a household as a part time job. I'd take the bus to get to my job, and be back to my dorm sometime after dark. I loved everything about it. I loved to cook, I loved the bus ride, I loved getting away from campus for a while. *just realized this is completely irrelevant*
One night I got off the bus one stop farther than normal because I decided I wanted to walk. It was a fall night, but pretty warm still. I had on a jacket but left it unzipped, and my hands were ungloved and it didn't bother me. As I was walking up the hill that reaches the Duquesne, about 3 blocks from campus, I saw a guy turn the corner approaching me. Typically (unfortunately) I'm a firm believer in 'it won't happen to me.' But this guy gave me chills. He was dressed in a black trench coat tied up tight with a hat on and a black scarf wrapped around his face. His hands were in his pockets.

ooo you're creepy

I put my hand in my coat pocket and dialed 911 ready to press 'talk' (and hoped it would appear as a gun, not a cell phone). As he passed I said hello to give the impression that I didn't notice he was totally inappropriately dressed as to remain coooool, calm and collected. He nodded his head and turned the corner. When I got closer to campus, I looked behind me to see where he was, and he was still lurking in the corner that he turned after we passed each other.

That weekend my parents came to visit me. They asked how work was, and since I always like a good story, and always like to give my mom the chillies, I told them what happened. "Don't be alarmed, mom and dad, but listen to this story." They both thought I was kidding. I told them I wasn't, why? They said that morning on the news a guy described exactly the way I had described him had just been arrested for 24 armed robberies in the area.

Creepers and grim reapers.