Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Move Over Freddy and Jason; Make Room for The Van Man

Last Tuesday I woke up with the mother of all sinus headaches and a clearance of approximately .00000001 mm for air passage through my throat so, after calling in sick to work and collapsing into a deep sleep for another couple of hours, I eventually got myself out of bed, threw on enough clothes so that I was only minimally scary looking, and drove down the street to CVS to pick up some Claritin-D. As I got out of my car and headed towards the store, I slowly realized that the pounding I was hearing came not from within my stopped up head, but the back of a van parked a few spaces over. I turned to see that there was a guy in the back, face pressed close to the window, waving frantically at me. I waved back uncertainly, half-convinced he was some mentally challenged dude who thinks everyone walking by is his friend. Before I could move away, he shouted "Let me out of here!" When I stopped, he pleaded once again for me to release him, stating that he had accidentally locked himself in.

My first thought was that this was the point in a horror movie where you're screaming at the moron on screen not to open the door because once he does he's going to get his throat slit, eyes gouged out, and/or body mangled by the power tool du jour. Guided by almost 30 years of slasher-film-fueled paranoia I hesitated, taking a quick moment to study the van and its surroundings: both front doors wide open; work ladder up top; no sign of law enforcement or mental health provider insignia; and (most importantly) no signs of blood spatter or mutilated body parts. It looked like he was telling the truth . . . or was that just what he wanted me to think . . .

I told myself that I was being ridiculous, that it was just the allergy-induced fuzzy-headedness distracting me, and what I needed to do was let the poor guy out then go get my medicine. I steeled myself and opened up the van door, backing quickly out of easy stabbing range as I did so. The newly freed man thanked me, saying he'd been in there for 15 or 20 minutes, and then moved to the front of his van. I went briskly into CVS, ears peeled for any hint that I might have unwittingly unleashed the next Jason Voorhees on the public. But of course, there was nothing: no cop sirens, no cries of horror, no screams of "No, no, he's free, some fool has brought death down upon us all!" so I just got my pills and headed home, feeling slightly silly at my overactive imagination. Then I related the story to a couple of different people who each said they thought I was crazy for opening the door with nobody else around.

Nice to know I'm not the only paranoiac on the block.


CAP'N Disaster said...

You crazy fool!!! We could all be lying dead in a ditch now. Now I'm going to sleep with my lights on.
Oh disaster, tragic disaster. The Cap'n has released terror upon us..all because of his allergy induced absence of logic.

Cap'n Cluck said...

What if he had been some crazed mental patient who's only desire was to prey on allergy ridden souls and keep them from breathing ever again? And you just let him out. Thanks!

Have a Stuffity, Stuff, Stuff Day!

Cap'n Neurotic said...

See, I can always count on my fellow CAP'NS to serve as the voices of logic and reason.

Love the "Stuffity" sign-off, btw.