Maybe not such a coincidence after all

When I was in college I traveled a lot to visit my long distance boyfriend. Every Friday afternoon I’d pack up for a three hour drive and be back late Sunday night for Monday classes. After a while this got to be a pretty strict routine. For years nothing really ever happened and I never got off the interstate if I could help it.

One Sunday I drove home early so I could get back to my dorm before dark, and all the way down the interstate I took notice of a black sports car that had been driving with me since my boyfriend’s home town. At first, I couldn’t figure out why this was weird, but the fact is I was a really slow driver in a lumbering SUV. Most people, especially sports cars, passed me at every opportunity. Still, I chalked it up to coincidence and made sure to keep an eye on the car as I was traveling.

After about two hours of this guy religiously following behind me I was starting to get pretty freaked out. However, by then I had managed to get a good look at him in my rear view mirror, and noticed he wasn’t much older than me. He was just an average looking guy so I tried to talk myself out of thinking anything too bad about him. It didn't help much, honestly; I still had a really bad feeling.

I started to speed up and slow down, basically driving as bad as I could without hurting anyone just to see if he’d stay with me. He did. Every time I sped up he fell in line right behind me again, and every time I slowed down-- even thirty below the speed limit-- he wouldn’t pass me.

I panicked and made a stupid decision. I got off the interstate at a gas station and pulled in. I wanted to see if he’d follow me, and sure enough he did. I watched him as he parked across the parking lot.

I could see him staring at me from my peripheral vision as I rushed inside the gas station, thinking he wouldn’t follow me where there were people and cameras. I was wrong though. He did follow me inside, and headed me off at one of the aisles.

I turned back the way I came just as he tried to say something to me, but I was already gone before I could hear what it was. I ran back to the bathrooms and locked myself in the women’s restroom, not even considering the fact that I was letting myself be cornered. A few seconds after I slid the dead bolt over, the door began to shake-- violently. The door knob was being turned as far as it would go in either direction and the dead bolt rattled so much I was scared it would come loose.

It felt like forever, but I’m sure it was only a few seconds before it suddenly stopped. I stayed in the restroom for another ten minutes, keeping track of the time on my phone until I thought he had to be gone. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to call the cops, but I snuck out of the restroom as quietly as I could. The cashier was waiting for me, watching for me to come out, and asked if I needed his help. He made it clear that he thought something was really wrong, but I was still too freaked out to think straight. I just shook my head and said, “I’m not sure.”

I bolted for my car, and saw that the stalker guy was sitting in his own car again, watching the gas station doors; I guess to see when I’d come out. I got into my car just as I heard his car start, and I sped back onto the interstate. He followed me into a jumble of tractor trailers, and after a few minutes of chaotic traffic I finally lost him. For such an average looking guy, he was incredibly freaky. I definitely never want to meet that man again.