solitaire

Ever wonder what goes on inside the mind of a potential kidnapper? Maybe they're just looking for love.

Solitaire

It was 1:33 PM, eastern standard time, when the train pulled into university station. Since it was the end of the line, I figured now would be as good a time as any to get off. Lately, I’d been in the habit of taking the metro to get around town. Not only because I had no car or license to speak of, but I also thought it might help my “Urban Loner” image. All my friends are suburban white kids, so taking the metro to get around made me the certified badass. Ironically, taking the metro was one of the few things I could actually manage to do by myself. To this day I can’t use public transportation without staring at everyone like he’s about to rape me. 

Upon exiting the station, I encountered the most spectacular of individuals. He had donned his uniform of choice: black t-shirt, black sweatpants, black shoes. He was a black guy too, but that shouldn’t matter you racist. We locked eyes and he approached me. As he got closer, I could smell his choice of cologne. It was a new flavor I’ll call Axe feces. 

“ghjse#^%hfdjcar,” He said unto me. Unfortunately, I did not speak his native tongue, so I asked him to repeat his request: “Could you help me... get something... from my car?”  Tempting as it was, I had to refuse. But as I watched him move on to an angry looking pregnant woman, I almost wished I’d taken him up on his offer. 

I wanted to know this guy. Who was he? What were his hopes and dreams? What kind of restraints did he have in his rape dungeon? The thing that intrigued me most was his plan. I’d just watched this guy get off a bus, so what car was he talking about? I imagined a scenario where the two of us walk up to the university parking lot, and he turns and just stares at me. He didn’t think he’d make it this far, and has no idea what to do next. We stand there for about 13 minutes while he waits for me to make the first move. There’s an awkward goodbye. I walk away to find five dollars and that hot girl who was in gym once. 

What the hell was this guy thinking? I can’t assume this was his plan from the beginning. Am I expecting that an ambulatory human woke up and thought, “Okay… okay. What am I gonna do today? Rape! Rape sounds good. I’ll put on my outfit from the flash mob last week, walk up to the first guy I see, and say my line: ‘could you help me get something from my car?’ perfect. And it needs to be somewhere that people are always suspicious of each other all the time, like a right aid or a metro station. Oh, and I should mumble first to gain his trust. Grade ‘A’ plan, me!”

This plan is pure crazy, and for the purpose of writing this story I refuse to believe it. The part that bothered me the most was his choice in dialog. Did he have to repeat verbatim the exact words every child on earth was taught to avoid? Come now sir, you couldn’t have been a bit more creative? Any alteration would have been acceptable.  Who knows, he could have easily gotten my attention with something like, “Hey kid, wanna help me ref a lesbian mud wrestling match?!”

Then I might say, “That doesn’t sound likely, but I’ll follow you anyway, good sir!” 

If he’d come up with something like that, I’d at least have given him an “A” for effort. After all, this guy was trying to kidnap me for the possible purposes of rape, murder, slavery, or ransom.  A little bit of ingenuity is all I’m asking for. 

I think the bit about this guy that really made me mad was that he had one up on me. This guy was out in the community meeting people. Who am I to judge his methods? For all I know, he could end up abducting his future husband this way. It’s not likely, (this guy didn’t seem like the type to get tied down,) but I’ve seen stranger things happen. He was putting himself out there, trying to form relationships, even if those relationships involved mainly bondage and nefarious sex acts. I hardly if ever try to form relationships, sexual or platonic.

I remember a particular family vacation in Virginia. I’d spent spent the past few days hanging around this girl Leslie, I’ll call her. I spent most of my time with her holding empty conversations, staring at her a*s, and thinking about what a truly unspectacular person she was. She was a dancer, but I don’t think there was anything else too special about her. She liked me, but then again she was from Virginia, so maybe she was just aroused by the thought of a man who can put a complete thought into words. I could have taken whatever I wanted from her, but I chose not to. I wonder why I didn’t.Our goodbye is what I remember more than anything. 

“So, how are we gonna contact each other after you go away?” she asked in her southern drawl.

“Well, it looks like we’re not. That’s too bad. Goodbye forever then, Leslie!” 

I spent days with this girl and arbitrarily I’d decided she wasn’t worthy of me. My abductor, on the other hand, looked at me for three seconds, and decided I was a suitable candidate for kidnaping. I’m not particularly handsome or docile looking, and I also don’t look like a good lay, so I’ll take his offer as a compliment. I don’t seem to enjoy conventional affection anyway, so why shouldn’t I feel better about myself knowing some guy wants to rape me? Who knows? It could have been love at first sight.

After all we’re not that different, him and I. It seems all too often that I waste time on people who can never return my affections, so I understand this guy on some levels. My, “Would you go out with me sometime?” is his, “Would you help me get something from my car?” They seem to have about the same levels of creativity and effectiveness, so I don’t know why I’m in a position to judge him. Perhaps because I haven't been sleeping in a dumpster, but then again, that’s his dumpster. The only real difference between us is a shower and an unmarked van. If I lost one and gained the other, I could see us being friends. We could hang out and talk about being lonely until the Applebee’s closes. When we’re not at Applebee’s, we could hand out and play Solitaire. I’ve always thought Solitaire was a s****y game. Mathematically, it’s improbable to lose, but people do all the time. It’s tragic how one can hold all the cards in his hand, and never find a match. So I try not to play solitaire.