pickup truck, truck, old

 I  had something really scary happen to me when I was around 18 years old in the early 1990s. I was really into cars back then and I liked working on my own cars even though I’m a girl. I had a 1979 Z28 Camaro with T tops and in the summer,  I would go cruising around with my friends looking for something to do. One evening while driving up and down the main street in a neighboring city I noticed a small red truck following us at a distance. I was with my friend Jenny and I mentioned to her that I thought this truck could be following us. I pulled into the driveway of a fast-food restaurant and noticed that the truck pulled in to the restaurant three driveways back. I drove out in the other direction and he did the same. Again I pulled into another driveway and the truck pulled in three driveways behind. I did this several times and the truck kept following, always staying about three driveways back. Jenny and I decided that we should just head towards the home which was about thirty minutes away.

We thought that the driver of the truck would just give up and let us go but he did not. He just kept following. It was now getting very late and we were beginning to worry as the truck had now been following us for about an hour. We did not want to go home and have him follow us there. I decided that the best thing to do would be to drive to the nearest police station. I told Jenny what I planned on doing and to my horror, she grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it causing the car to veer sharply right.””What the hell are you doing?” I screamed at her.”You’re going to make us crash!” It was bad enough that I had to worry about the truck following us but I now had to worry about my passenger freaking out and causing us to have an accident. “No we can’t go to the police!” she insisted.

It occurred to me right then that somehow she thought that this was our fault. That somehow just by cruising around, she thought that we had done something to provoke this. I reluctantly drove away from the police station. We approached a bridge and were stopped by the red light on a one-way street.  The truck was directly behind a car that was next to us. The car turned right allowing the truck to pull forward. I looked over and to my horror, this guy had stepped out of the truck and was standing next to the passenger’s side of my car with no pants on and he was masturbating. This guy didn’t have his pants down around his ankles. As a matter of fact, he had none on at all. I had the disturbing feeling that he probably didn’t even have any with him this whole time that he had been following us.

I hit the gas pedal and ran the red light going over the bridge. Somehow my friend didn’t see what that guy had been doing just outside of her window. When I told her,  she just kept saying “no way.” “How the Hell did you not see that? ” I asked her in disbelief. It occurred to us that this guy would likely rape us if he had the chance.  I drove up and down a few one-way streets and back over the bridge and out into the country.  He followed us for what seemed like forever until we were able to finally lose him going really fast out in the middle of nowhere. We went home and tried to forget about it.  For some reason, I never told my parents and I’m not sure why. A few weeks later I saw on the news that the police were looking for a guy in a small red truck.  He was wanted for rape. They showed his picture and it resembled the guy that had followed us. I thought that their description of the truck was a little different than the one we had seen, but maybe not. I always wondered if it was him. I’m just glad that we never had to find out.

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