As a med student, you see everything. The hospital is a crazy place, and no, I'm not talking about crazy sexy hijinks and shenanigans in supply closets a la Grey's Anatomy. I'm talking about the patients.
I shadow an oncologist once every two weeks in Evanston. Just the other day, my preceptor and I walked into a room and the woman immediately proceeded to ask him seemingly random questions. Were you a Boy Scout? Have you had a vasectomy? Are you thinking of getting a vasectomy? Did you camp a lot as a child? (Answers: no, no, uhhhhh, yes?) Her erratic behavior made a lot more sense when we looked at what she had written down as her occupation: 'psychic and humble messenger of supreme beings.'
Anyhow, I'm always a little glad to leave the hospital and head home.
Home.
Where it's nice and normal and comfortable.
I usually get out around 6 or 7. But this week, I was off by 4:30pm!! Excitedly I walked home in the gorgeous almost-Californian-like weather, planning out what I was going to do with my suddenly free afternoon.
So there's this alley way that I sometimes take to get home. It's perfectly safe - well lit and everything, and there's always one or two other people taking the shortcut to their own homes. So on this day, I was walking down this alley, and I saw this man walking in my direction.
For some odd reason, my Spidey sense started to go crazy. And every fiber of my being wanted to turn tail and run away. I looked around and realized that it was just me and him in this alley. Hyper-vigilant, I forced myself to overcome racial stereotypes (yes, he was black), and keep going. Besides, he was on his cell phone, and pretty well groomed in a white oversized sweatshirt and designer jeans. I was just being silly, I told myself.
As he came closer, I overheard his phone conversation. No, man, I dunno! I said I dunno. Hold up, there's a girl here, let me ask her.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, silly me - he just needs directions!
Excuse me...do you know if I can take care of myself around here?
...
...
What?! (I mean, seriously, what does that even mean?) Thinking that he was wondering about how safe the neighborhood was, I said, Uhhh, I guess this is a pretty safe place?
No no, I mean, can I exercise around here?
The gym's a couple of blocks that way.
No, not the gym. Can I masturbate? Jack off to you? Just then, he reached down, and I realized his pants were unbuttoned and unzipped. Cue shock and fear. Quickly figuring out what he was about to do, I immediately started walking away, while adamantly refusing. No, no, no!!
I walked as quickly as I could in my heels and prayed that he wouldn't follow me.
Luckily, he didn't. But as I walked away, he called after me, Please! Just stay for TWO minutes! TWO MINUTES!
My building is half a block from the alley. So, the moment I walked in the door, I told my doormen, who sent security detail in that direction. I don't know if they caught him, but all's well that ends well.
There are some pretty crazy people out there.
And apparently the flasher stereotype is wrong. He wasn't a dirty old man. And he wasn't wearing a long trench coat. And it didn't happen at 2am.
So the message of the story is this: Stay away from alleys, no matter how well-lit it is or how sunny it might be outside. And aways trust your gut. Whether it's telling you to run away or that it's time to eat, it's never ever wrong.
Be safe out there everyone.
3 years ago
