Just wanted to say this was my favorite part. I could picture your fury perfectly.
A condom full of porridge? Is this a common self defense item?
We’re not allowed to have guns here in Canada, so we have to make do.
Twenty years ago, I was attending a conference in Washington, DC. I have relatives in Maryland I was going to visit when the conference was over. Originally, I had planned to take the Metro to the station nearest their house, and they were going to collect me there. But dealing with all my luggage on the crowded Friday afternoon train was more than I wanted to fool with, so I opted to take a cab to the designated meeting place.
I was sitting in the front seat of the cab with the driver when we got stuck in traffic. I knew we were going to be late arriving at the rendevous, and thought I should call my aunt and let her know. Of course, this was before the days of cell phones. I saw a pay phone on the street, and a parking space about five car lengths before the phone. So I said to the driver, “Pull over here for a minute while I make a phone call, OK?” The driver pulled into the curbside space and I ran up to the phone and made my call.
While I was on the phone, a parking space opened up next to the phone, and the cabbie had moved from the space five lengths back to the one next to the phone. But I didn’t notice he had moved. In the meantime, another car had pulled into the space previously occupied by the cab. I walked back to the original parking space, opened the passenger door, and hopped in. The woman driver of that car, probably thinking she was about to be abducted at gunpoint, immediately began screaming, “NOOOOOOO!! NOOOOOOO!!” All the while, the cab driver was honking furiously at me trying to get my attention to let me know he had moved.
When I realized what was going on, I said “Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” to the woman driver of the car I had entered, jumped out as soon as I could and ran back to the cab.
I was damned lucky she didn’t have a gun! She probably would have shot me dead right there! :eek:
I also liked the angry-emperor-penguins line.
At 5 feet even, I am short. No looming here, though I like to crochet.
However, I got the bejeezus scared out of me one time by someone who was literally at least 7 feet tall. I was going through a lot of stress then, which worked strange things on my mind.
Anyway, I was working alone in a small warehouse and he was one of our vendors. He came in wearing a tailored charcoal gray pinstripe suit, looking as huge as a 7 foot tall guy can look. My poor, overloaded, frazzled mind suddenly thought it was in 1930’s Chicago and immediately screamed, “Gangsters! Help! Gangsters!” For a split second I thought he was there to collect some insurance money or to break my knees! :eek:
I recovered enough to help him but geez, that must have been the time my grey hair started coming in in earnest.
I am 6’4", have broad shoulders and a matching paunch. I also wear a beard. I don’t look much like Leonardo di Caprio. I have on many occasions been greeted with shrieks of fear when someone opened a door quickly, or I did, and they saw me. Makes me feel all warm inside, it does. The worst case was late one night when I was riding a subway car on the way home from work. One other passenger, a woman, giving all sorts of fearful/nervous vibes the whole time she was in the car. I had just worked a sixteen hour day and was exhausted – I had no interest in her or anything other than a nice mattress, but I imagine I looked pretty grim because I was so tired. I wanted to say something to make her feel less nervous, but I was afraid I’d scare her even more.
Not really in the same vein, but…
I once picked up someone at the airport in Washington, DC and drove them into Maryland on the Beltway. I didn’t think anything of it, but she told me several months later that she was so terrified of the way I was driving that she wanted to tell me to take her back to the airport, but she was too scared to say anything.
It was the first time she’d experienced DC traffic.
When I was 9 years old, I was in a rather nasty car accident and managed to break my arm and fracture my skull which gave me two lovely black eyes. I looked like the loser in a prizefight. My first day on the school bus, I turned around and smiled at the 6 year old kid in the seat behind me and he burst into tears. I felt like a total heel!
So, I was about twenty years old, and on summer break from college. I’m about 6’1", long hair, full beard, probably weighing in at a good 250 pounds. Now, physically, I suppose I’m pretty imposing, but in my head, I’m still that fat, geeky kid who got picked on in high school. Anyway, one day around lunch time, I decide to head over to McDonalds for a fecal burger and fries.
I get my food, and try to find a table to sit at, but the place is super-crowded. Mostly high school students. I turn around, looking for somewhere to sit, and accidently bump into this kid carrying a tray full of food. I knock over his super-size soda, which hits the ground and dumps Coke all over my shoes. I look at the kid, and he’s this total football jock, the kind that used to push me around when I was in school. He’s looking down at his spilled Coke with his eyes wide and his mouth half open. “Oh shit,” I think, “This guy’s going to go ape-shit on me for spilling his drink.” He looks up, stares me right in the eye, and stammers out, “Oh, dude! I’m so totally sorry! It was an accident!” He’s freakin’ terrified of me! Of me! It was such a great feeling! I’d never been scary before.
A few months later, I’ve just got out of a night class, and am taking the bus home. I get off of my stop right behind a middle-aged woman in a business suit. I’m still my bulky, hirsute self. Turns out, we’re walking in the same direction. I’m sort of anxious to get home, but this woman is ahead of me, and is walking much more slowly. The sidewalk is too narrow to pass, so I just trail several feet behind her, not wanting to get into her personal space.
We’re walking along, and she looks over her shoulder at me, and quickens her pace. Not really thinking about it, I speed up too, so I’m still the same distance behind her. A few seconds later, she looks behind her again, and walks even faster. I keep pace with her again. This happens one more time, and it still hasn’t dawned on me that the woman is trying to get away from me. We’re almost at the street corner, and the woman suddenly breaks into a run and hightails it to her car, frantically trying to unlock the door. Finally, I realize that I’ve been effectively stalking this woman for the last block or so, and start laughing. I walk past her just as she gets into her car and locks the door, staring at me wide-eyed. I felt bad for scaring her, but I also felt surprisingly bad-assed for being so scary in the first place.
On my first visit to Mexico City about 15 years ago I went in search of an address in one of the upper class neighbourhoods, where many of the main embassies are situated.
I was on foot, and needed to ask for directions. I approached a well-groomed woman driver whose BMW was stopped at an intersection, and started to phrase my question.
Her face was the picture of fear, panic and loathing. The windows went up and the security locks snapped closed, and she stepped on it in quick retreat.
My thought was: me? You’re afraid of me? I know I’m a little on the scruffy side, but what is your problem?
I once accidentally frightened a man who was a foot taller than me and probably weighed 100 pounds more. My brothers and I had gone shopping at a local mall. We split up to check-out various things and agreed to meet near the fountain. When I got to the meeting place, I saw Kevin sitting on a bench watching the water. Spurred on by some sisterly impulse I grabbed his shoulders from behind and started to shake him, then I pulled his hair and mussed it up some. During the whole procedure I was telling him what a numb-nuts he was. Kev totally freaked out - jumped about two feet straight in the air, turned around with this wild look in his eyes. The poor guy had the same auburn hair color as my brother.
My friend, his roomate and I were coming back to his apartment after watching a movie. We were kind of standing in a line because my friend was the only one who had a key to get in the apartment. As he is unlocking the door, he is startled by a spider and says, “Ah!”. I don’t see the spider, I just see him flinch and I yelp and jump backward. His roomate, who was behind me, doesn’t know what the hell is going on but sees both of us get startled so she SCREAMS and runs off; we were all freaked out and yelling, what happened, what happened? Because we all collectively scared the shit out of each other over a lousy daddylonglegs spider :smack:
That would be great! Unfortunately the “son” or whoever is quite a bit younger than I am. I’m not sure she would appreciate a 22 year old woman approaching her teenage son, much less one with perceived violence control issues.
So if I see her again, maybe i’ll wave just a little too quickly and emphatically, with a crazed look in my eye. Or just a wink and a prison-style air kiss.
LOL! Thats great… especially the numb-nuts part.
I have to ask… how long were you shaking/mussing/taunting this guy?? I guess the question is, how long was it before he realized you weren’t his girlfriend? 
Re people who are accidentally terrifying: The brother of one of my good friends is outwardly a quiet, unpreposessing fellow, about 5’5", scrawny and slightly popeyed. He also happens to be an ex-stoner and smoke like a fiend. Well, imagine my surprise when he and his sister are over visiting and he says:
Hey Doug, is it cool if I smoke?
I accidentally chased some some joggers with a ski pole while screaming as loud as I could.
At least they got a good workout that day.
Re people who are accidentally terrifying: The brother of one of my good friends is outwardly a quiet, unpreposessing fellow, about 5’5", scrawny and slightly popeyed. He also happens to be an ex-stoner and smoke like a fiend. Well, imagine my surprise when he and his sister are over visiting and seemingly out of nowhere a voice booms:
Hey Doug, is it cool if I smoke?
The guy’s got a voice box so low and powerful it seems to be somewhere down in his shoes, drawing about 140 watts per channel! He wasn’t yelling or anything, just being conversational, and it was like someone had flipped a switch!
The wierd part is, his nephew, who’s now 16 and the son of 2 parents with perfectly normal voices, is developing the exact same voice.
My dad accidently scared one of our neighbors, back when I was a kid. Some nasty hooligan was throwing rocks at my sister and she finally threw one back at him and actually beaned him. When his dad heard about it, he came charging over to yell obscenities at my mom, who was in the front yard. My dad was in the back yard splitting some firewood and came out front, thinking that someone had come over for a friendly visit.
When my 6’4", 280 pound dad, complete with he-man beard, lumber jack clothes, and axe stepped around the corner of the house, well, our dear neighbor found something else to do right quick. Poor dad never did get used to people thinking he was scary, even when he remembered to leave the axe at home.
Martha, could she have thought you were a kidnapper? Happens a great deal in Mexico City (or people are really worried about it). I can just see it now-- innocent Martha acts as a decoy while evil kidnappers grab the woman and take off!
My relatives are scared to death when I drive them around here! Things are different here, you have to drive offensively or you’re toast.
Many years ago when I was a tall, skinny teenager, some friends snuck into my room (that late night secret sneak out trick works both ways) one morning before school. They rolled me over and handcuffed me behind my back, then split, laughing.
Ever resourceful, I stepped through the cuffs (long arms are good), pulled on a pair of jeans, and headed for the garage. My goal: the grinder.
We lived in the center of an irregularly shaped block on a hillside – the streets were a little confusing if you didn’t know your way around. Our driveway looked like it might be an alley – but it just led to our house and our next-door neighbors.
So there I am, hands held way in front of me to avoid sparks, grinding the middle of the chain on the handcuffs, when this car pulls into the driveway. It’s a woman and her daughter (I presumed), obviously lost. The daughter gets out, and asks me a question.
I can’t hear her over the grinder, so I turn it off, then approach the car. At this point the mother gets this look… I ask the daughter to repeat her question (what?) then proceed to give her directions, awkwardly pointing towards where they need to go. Mom’s seriously freaking, and doesn’t even wait for the daughter to close her door before she squeals backwards, onto the lawn to turn around, then races out the driveway at high speed. The daughter is turning back and forth in the seat to stare at me with a horrified expression.
I bet they still tell the story about getting directions from the escaped prisoner.
For some reason I am often accidentally terrifying a particular male Irish collegue of mine. I may be slightly taller and braoder than average, and I may often wear dark clothes, but for some reason I often scare the be-Jeezus out of this guy if we meet at random in a darkish corridoor at work.