Thursday, February 12, 2009

My Funny Valentine, or How I Almost Got Arrested For Burglary By Avoiding Rape (Help)

I live in Everett, a town 10 minutes driving distance from Boston. If I'm in Boston late without a car, I'll always cab home. I never take the T past like... 8:30. Which is weird, sure, but there's no good that can happen on the T to where I'm going past that time. I take the orange line and a bus from skeevy stations so no, I'm set. I'll pay a $20 cab.

Last night though, Casey had to take the T because his roommate is a jerk. Since we're both on the Orange Line - I went with him since it'd be company and I wouldn't get creeped on in the presence of company!

Well, I kinda did. There was this guy that kept talking really loud asking questions and staring at me. But thankfully, he got off when Casey did. But then, I met Carlos.

Carlos was waiting for a cab like me at the train station because I missed the last bus. At this point, I was thinking, "Why the fuck didn't I just take a cab from Boston?" but whatever, a cab would come eventually. I was surrounded by the creepiest men you'd ever meet. Homeless people, drug addicts... Malden and Everett trash. A couple of cabs come, and all the other guys jump into them, a lot of them were sharing cabs out of convenience for the cabby - even though I was there first. Whatever. Not going to say anything... chivalry doesn't exist north of Boston.

Now it's just Carlos and I. Now, Carlos isn't bad looking. When I saw him, I thought, "Oh, he's attractive." But then Carlos says, "Where are you going?" and I say, "Everett." There's a pause.

"What's your name?"

"Patty."

Another pause.

"Why are you getting home so late?" He says, sort of protectively.

"I had a show."

"What? A show? I'm not even going to ask..."

A pause.

"What kind of show? Do you hang out in Cambridge at all?"

"Uh, no? It was a comedy show."

Then he went on about a friend of his who does comedy at Dick Doherty's. I said I don't do stand-up, I do improv. And then he told me that was really cool - and I completely regretted telling him I do comedy. And will not ever say it again. It opens up cheesy jokes and stories about pasts as comedians, or friends that are comedians and "do you know this person?" Ew, hate it. Not sexy.

So, a cab pulls up and asks if we're going to the same direction. And he tells me that he lives near me, but he's going to Boston - but we can split a cab. I mean, Carlos is kind of creeping me out, but eh. I live 5 mins from the station, so I thought, "Eh, easy."

"So, how old are you?"

"22."

"You're young."

"Why? How old are you?"

"Guess."

"28."

Laughs. "No, no... close. 29."

"Ok. That's not much older."

"So comedy, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You're gorgeous."

"Thank you."

"Can I get a card or anything?"

"No, I don't have one."

"What are you? Ghetto? Who doesn't have a card?"

"Well, I have one, just not with me."

"Then... maybe I can come up to your place and grab one of your cards?"

"Uh.. no, I don't think so."

"Come on? Are you not attracted to me? I'm attracted to you. If this cab had a window divider I'd be all over you in the back of this cab."

"Uh... sorry."

"So you DO actually have a card, you're just a fucking liar."

"What? No.."

The cab pulls up to my house. I get out, he grabs my hand and tells me, "It was nice to meet you beautiful. I live right down the street. Maybe I'll stop by sometime."

Then my immediate thought is... "This guy's going to rape me in my sleep tonight." So my first thought was to go to a neighbor's house. So I climbed the steps, slowly, hoping the driver would leave. He didn't. Fuck.

So I fumbled in my bag looking for the keys. Didn't leave. I opened the wind door. Didn't leave. I start fumbling at the door with an imaginary key. Someone peeks through the window blinds. Damnit, this person's going to think I'm breaking into their house now. Another person looks through the blinds, then they disappear. I'm pretty sure either to get a gun/knife/sword or call the cops.

So I stay there for about 2 minutes until the cab driver leaves.

Then I went home.

I wasn't arrested.

And I wasn't raped.

All in all, a good night.

The funny thing is that I was actually texting Casey rape (help) jokes... and low and behold, it could have easily happened given the situation of being a young girl wearing a low cut top at 1am at Malden Station.

But hey, how about that Leather Gang huh? Amazing show!

3 comments:

McWhadden said...

I am going to kill you.

Patty Barrett said...

Carlos McWhadden?? Is that you??

becky said...

rule #1 patty learns in her early 20s: don't take a cab home with someone who you don't feel comfortable knowing your address.

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