Friday, September 9, 2011

Blue Jeans: A Cautionary Tale

I want to tell you the story of a time when my tight-fitting jeans nearly cost me my life.  Sounds overly dramatic, I know, but the older I get, the more I realize what kind of trouble I really could have been in.

It was a gorgeous spring day during my college years and I had the day off and no plans.  I woke late, de-frizzed my natural curls as best I could, and got dressed.  An off-day meant my favorite pair of Rockies jeans, boots and a cute top.  Rocky Mountain Jeans were designed with no back pockets, so were perfect for showing off my cute, tiny little tush.

I hoped into my red Geo Metro and drove to the local Wal-Mart for a few college essentials (caffeine and junk food).  I whipped into a fairly close parking spot next to a Bondo-grey van.  I hopped out, and dug around in the back seat for my purse.  As I did, I heard appreciative comments coming from the van.  Van drivers were NOT my type, so I ignored them.  I continued to ignore lewd comments about my backside and what one could do to it as the three van occupants ambled past into the store.

I found my purse, shouldered it, and set off in the opposite direction at a quick, determined pace.

Inside the store, I gathered my few purchases and headed for a check-out lane.  From the check stand I could see that the three men had joined a fourth and they were all standing in the jewelry department.  And I was still an object of their attention.  As the cashier made small talk, I noticed the three heading for the exit and inwardly sighed with relief.  I purposely took my time going to the exit, giving the men ample time to leave so I would not encounter them again.

Just before I left the building I saw the fourth man, leaning on the counter in the jewelry department.  I looked at him and he grinned at me.  Disgusted, I looked away, took out my keys and left the building.

Instantly, alarm bells were going off in my head.  To my left, near the pay phone, was one of the three, on my right the second, and I could see the third man standing in the parking lot facing me.  If I walked a few feet more, I would be surrounded.

I froze.  I stopped mid-step, looked at my watch and turned on my heel to go back into the building.

Just two steps inside the building, I saw the fourth man again.  He was grinning again.  He walked past me, getting so close that there were mere molecules between us.  I could feel his body heat on my skin.

I stopped at the nearest employee and asked for an escort to my car.  It took several minutes to find someone, and I'd almost convinced myself that I'd overreacted until we walked back outside.

The grey van was stopped right behind my car, completely bocking it in.  I pointed at the van, and it sped off.

I believe that if I had not heeded my inner alarm, I would not be here today.  I would've been in the back of that van, unspeakable things would've been done and I would have been gone.

Blue jeans designed to highlight a woman's backside aren't really dangerous.  But some men are.


  1. This was a good post, although it sent a couple chills up my spine. Close call for sure!
    A little concrit, though, you had several typos and might want to go in and edit those. The piece was a good one, though! Thanks for sharing.

  2. NEVER ignore those internal alarm bells. I'm so glad you honor your feelings.

  3. Oh, I'm so glad those slime buckets didn't get you. The world is not as pretty a place as some would like to believe.

  4. I've got chills now. I'm glad you listened to those inner alarm bells too! What a bunch of creeps!

  5. So blad you listened to your inner voice. that could have been so bad for you. Great piece.


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