Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Story: Stalker Cabbie in Queens

Story told by Ms. Anonymous: I used to live in Astoria, Queens, and one cold morning at 3 a.m., I decided to visit my friend. (Don’t ask). My friend lived close, but the walk was through a long, barren industrial block. The subway wasn’t working, so I decided to wait for a bus.

While I was waiting for the bus stop, a cab pulled up and offered me a ride. He said he was driving along the subway line anyway. Well, sure. It was cold.

Then he asked me to sit in the front seat. I did. He looked Eastern European. I must have worn a jacket or a shirt with a pattern on it, because next thing I know, he was trying to touch and trace the design and started making really creepy comments.

I had to get out of the cab, but I did not under any circumstances want him to know where I lived. So I told him to stop two blocks away. He didn’t stop so much as slowed down, and I just jumped out. No, no, I'm getting off here.

I walked in the opposite direction from my place until he turned a corner, and then I ran as fast as possible towards my apartment. The mini mart where I hoped to take refuge was closed, but I made it to an alley behind my building just in time – I saw the taxi turn the corner, clearly circling and looking for me. He drove very slowly.

I stayed in the shadow until he turned another corner, then I snuck into my apartment. I kept my lights off. I peeked out the window and saw him circle by two more times before he gave up.

I still don't trust cabs.

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