As with any good story, or at least a dramatic one, there is a beginning... so:
There I was...
Driving home from a soccer game that took place maybe 20 minutes from my house, my car started going crazy. First, the engine light came on. Soon to follow, the battery light came on. Then (a light I didn't even know existed, nor that I had it) an exclamation light turned on. But it doesn't end there. My car gave me one last "Eff you!" and my gas light turned on.
I pulled over to the nearest gas station and phoned a friend who just happens to be a mechanic. After fiddling with my car for almost two hours we decided it was getting too dark and the tools needed were in short supply to fix my vehicle. So, we called it a night and called a tow truck. Around the time the Tow Truck Man arrived it was close to 10:30pm. After discussing that my drive way was probably too steep to park the car, we decided it was best to park it around the corner and my mechanic would work on it in the morning.
This is where the fun begins.
We found a spot to park my car no more than a block away from my house. The Tow Truck Man started to unload my car and myself and my sister (who, sidenote, just moved here) stood on the other side of the street so we were out of his way. Thats when I noticed a stranger walking up the street towards us. He was wearing a red polo, had white hair growing in the masses over his frame and resembled Santa Clause.
He started talking to us asking if it was my car, and what was going on. I sort of blew him off, "yea, my car had to get towed, blah blah" and went about my own business. He turned towards the tow truck and thats when I saw it, and it played out like a scary movie.
In the gleam of the street lights I saw that he was carrying a knife in his hand. I confirmed that what I saw was indeed a knife with my sister, put my arm around her to guard her (she's a toothpick, I figured if I got stabbed at least I wouldn't bleed out as fast as she would) and we quickly went to the Tow Truck Man and told him what we saw. He told us to get in the truck quickly as the man with the knife started walking over to us and the Tow Truck Man. My sister and I jump into the tow truck as quickly as possible (um, are those things high enough?!) and locked the doors.
The Santa Clause man started to harass our tow truck driver. "Leave the car, I didn't stutter, leave the fucking car". Luckily, the car still had not been removed from the truck so our Tow Truck Man was able to lift the car back on to the dock. He then quickly got into the truck.
As we were getting ready to drive away, the Santa Clause man came over to my side of the car (I was closest to the window). I held down the lock on the door like I was holding on to the edge of a cliff. We started to pull away and the Santa Clause man rushed to my side of the vehicle and slashed the front tire. We kept driving to get away, and stopped at the end of the street. The Tow Truck Man called the police.
When they showed up, after a stop at the local quicktrip (yes, that's fact), they told us to go back to where we were unloading the car and act like we were doing it again. Basically, we were to act like bait for crazy Santa Clause man.
He never showed up again, and thanks to the police blocking off traffic we were able to park in my driveway.
Had my sister or I not seen the knife in this guys hand, or if we hadn't thought to get away from this stranger myself, my sister, or our Tow Truck Man could very well have been seriously hurt or even dead.
It's a scary thought. It was a scary moment. And it is a scary reality.
