So then the lady on crack chased after me and I had to call 911…


I’ve never called 911 before. Fortunately, I have never had to. When my dad had his prostate removed I came the closest to it after he was experiencing an extremely high level of pain and we thought he might have a medical emergency post-op, but we ended up getting him to the hospital in due time with out the need to call for an emergency.

We haven’t had too many problems at home that have necessitated such a call either. I’ve always thought that 911 was for true, life threatening emergencies only. When someone tried to break into our apartment a few weeks ago but ran away when I made noise, I didn’t consider this an emergency so called the non-emergency number. When the neighbors upstairs had a party until 5:30 in the morning last weekend, again – while I know a lot of people do call 911 for things like that, I stuck with the complex security so that people whose lives are in danger could get the real response.

But then a lady who was clearly high on crack, drunk on one too many vodka tonics, or just plain insane in the membrane chased after me after my leisurely lunch of pizza and salad.

Imagine the scenario:

I – a stay at home, homeschooling mother with, yes, a feisty temper and very honest personality, but who generally tries to be a nice person – am pulling out of the Toppers Pizza parking lot after we had a nice and relaxing lunch of pizza and salad. We had a pretty  hard morning, dealing with some bank drama after my husband’s credit card number was stolen and continues to not be resolved (it’s never simple, is it?), so I figured that lunch and some tennis would be a great way to spend the rest of the day to wind down before the weekend.

I am waiting at the EXIT of the parking lot for the traffic to clear so that I may pull out and all of a sudden this humungous, silver SUV comes roaring up and drives over the curb and the grass in front of me.

“What the … ???” to myself is all I say and then the traffic clears and I pull out and turn onto my street.

All of a sudden, though, that same SUV is in my rear mirror and the woman is now weaving in and out between the lane I am in and the lane next to me. She’s screaming. She keeps driving as close as she can to myself and the other car next to me, who has already pulled out their phone and appears to be calling the police.

We get to a light and the crazy lady comes within an inch of slamming into the back of my car. So I blow a red light to turn into the nearest parking lot, and all I can see is this woman flipping the bird and making a face that can be described not in words but rather this:

(She kind of looked like Kirstie Alley, only on crack-cocaine, too.)

As I am dialing 911, I see her speed off, already harassing another car. She is honking her horn repeatedly and the sheriff on the phone with me at this point can hear. I give the report and head home, completely traumatized.

What in the hell is going on with this world? I encounter assholes every day it seems. Is it because I am active and participate in things within my community? Or is it because I attract it? Is it because I am paying attention, while many others are just floating along with their minds numbed out on their cell phones and TV shows? In all honesty, I do believe it is the latter; but when the lady on crack chased after me and I had to call 911, I don’t really care what it is. I really and truly at this point just want it to stop.

I can take someone sneezing in my food.

I can take someone yelling at me and my kid for her crying in swim class.

I can take a lot and look back at it afterwards and see the humor of it. I understand that a lot of the way people are now is just a reflection of how stressful the California lifestyle is. I get that so much of the way people act is because they are tightly wound as a result of a shitty economy and a fast-paced, high-stress way of life. And I get that a lot of Californians really are just narcissistic pricks – whatever, I can take all of that and laugh about it at the end of the day, no matter how awful it seems.

But a crazy lady on crack chasing me down the street, endangering Pookies and my lives? I can’t take that. I really can’t. On the phone with the sheriff, I started crying and she said she understood exactly why I was upset and scared. We got home just a bit ago and I am still shaking. It is frightening just how far some of these people will go; or how far they will go without even knowing it or getting the help they need.

I’m going to go retreat, now … retreat to my wine and my cheese and hide in my home until the storm appears to have cleared outside. Who even knows when that will be.

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14 Comments on “So then the lady on crack chased after me and I had to call 911…

  1. Actually, I think you would find, statistically per capita of people, that these types of incidents regarding people on drugs are more prevalent in other states. California gets all kinds of labels, usually from people who have migrated here, but the truth is there are more in other states. You just don’t hear about it. Not the whole world is crazy, but crazy behavior when experienced from another can make it feel so. If this was happening to you daily, then I’d say it’s a crazy place you live in,

  2. Some days I feel I might lose it, but I carry on not chasing strangers and not honking and shooting “the finger” for no reason at all.
    Love your blogs and your honesty.

  3. I think it’s because most people just look the other way. You don’t. That’s good.

  4. Oh I’m so glad its not just me!
    I had a similar experience yesterday morning on my way to a training course. We’re talking 7:30am on a Sunday. I’m driving along the expressway at about 105-110km/h (I’m in New Zealand, and, our speed limit is 100km/h!) Suddenly, there’s this little red car behind me, weaving from one side of the road to the other, then FLIES past me (on a winding section of road might I add) honking his horn. He must have been doing at least 150.
    Then a few minutes later I end up being another car, this time going well under the speed limit, weaving all over the road. I didn’t want to ring 111 (our emergency number), but I couldn’t remember our road safety number either.
    Crazy is everywhere, eeek!

  5. Some people are mentals! With all the bath salts stories floating around these days too you can never be too careful….

  6. If you live long enough you have a boatload of near misses and horror stories. And I don’t believe its just California although California and Florida seem to be in the news more than other areas California being the most populous state have a larger percentage of nutcases. Maybe you look too vulnerable. Maybe a killer look on your face will reduce your number of incidents. HaHa

  7. The sad part is the storm is just beginning. We live in a crazy society. One would think it is akin to Bizzaroworld. But I agree with the reasons you mentioned, especially the one where people are numbed out from this bombardment of sensory overstimulation. People are so far detached from their essence that they seem to do some utterly ridiculous things. It’s times like these when Fuckitall isn’t enough. That’s why the boys at the lab are working on a new product. It’s called “Holyfuckshit”: for when the unbelievable and unexpected occurs…

    But in all seriousness, that is some pretty traumatic stuff. I honestly believe it is time for you to change environments. Not that crazy shit can’t happen elsewhere but I believe your family would do better in a new place. Just my thoughts…..

  8. Wow! Thank God you’re all right–there are some nutsos out there. Sometimes you’ve just gotta call the authorities.
    And, while Kirstie Alley might not have been a rock smoker, she was no stranger to the white powder.

  9. I didn’t realize you had your kid with you! Holy crap! I would have been scared too. Now I am doubly sorry that this nut job bothered you. You know it isn’t just in California where this stuff happens, but I must say that it happens more often in California from my own experience. I have to think that if you husband had to deal with the same amount of crazy you do on a daily basis he may rethink moving to some other place. Eeeks. Be safe out there.

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