the car is haunted!
May. 31st, 2006 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janegodzillaActually, it's my mom's car, because I'm borrowing it, but still! Haunted! I'd parked in front of the apartment after doing groceries, and as I turned off the car I heard three rapid knocks, like someone was rapping on one of the side windows. Of course, no one was there. And that might've been the end of it, if not for another three knocks, this time on the other side of the car. Then more from underneath the car.
I have a very active imagination. It made no difference that it was broad daylight and the parking lot was utterly deserted -- I knew there was some crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac with hooks for hands crawling all over the car, just waiting for me to get out so he could, I don't know, sever my Achilles tendons with his scary-ass hook hands and cart me off to steal my kidneys or something. Yes, I know how stupid that sounds. But it wouldn't stop, and I sat in that stupid car for a good seven minutes, quietly freaking out as the knocks (always three, always rapid) moved all over the car, sometimes in the front, sometimes in the back, sometimes underneath. By the time I did exit, I ended up doing it in the most stupid and overdramatic way possible -- flinging open the driver's side door and bolting into the middle of the parking lot (going "nyeeeeuuhuuhuh!" the whole time), where I could safely crouch down and verify that there wasn't a crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac hiding underneath the car.
Shut up. I know how stupid that is. *facepalms* Because, of course, there was nothing there, and there was nothing left for me to do but gather my groceries from the backseat and hightail it up to the apartment before the knocking could start again.
This stuff never happens to me! Now I have to drive around for a week in a car that's either haunted or equipped with some bizarre and not-so-subtle government tracking device.
I have a very active imagination. It made no difference that it was broad daylight and the parking lot was utterly deserted -- I knew there was some crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac with hooks for hands crawling all over the car, just waiting for me to get out so he could, I don't know, sever my Achilles tendons with his scary-ass hook hands and cart me off to steal my kidneys or something. Yes, I know how stupid that sounds. But it wouldn't stop, and I sat in that stupid car for a good seven minutes, quietly freaking out as the knocks (always three, always rapid) moved all over the car, sometimes in the front, sometimes in the back, sometimes underneath. By the time I did exit, I ended up doing it in the most stupid and overdramatic way possible -- flinging open the driver's side door and bolting into the middle of the parking lot (going "nyeeeeuuhuuhuh!" the whole time), where I could safely crouch down and verify that there wasn't a crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac hiding underneath the car.
Shut up. I know how stupid that is. *facepalms* Because, of course, there was nothing there, and there was nothing left for me to do but gather my groceries from the backseat and hightail it up to the apartment before the knocking could start again.
This stuff never happens to me! Now I have to drive around for a week in a car that's either haunted or equipped with some bizarre and not-so-subtle government tracking device.