Gang Stalking – Off Topic – What’s the longest you’ve ever walked in a single day?

Humphreys Peak from I-40 in Arizona

flickr - Humphrey's Peak, AZ

Mesa Arts Center, Mesa, Arizona

Image via Wikipedia - Mesa Arts Center, Mesa, AZ

English: Photograph of downtown Mesa, Arizona,...

Image via Wikipedia - Downtown, Mesa, AZ

Mesa_arizona_mormon_temple

Image by More Good Foundation via Flickr Mormon Temple, Mesa, Arizona

English: Financial Plaza, Bank of America, Mes...

Image via Wikipedia

Write about what happened, how far you walked, and whether it was by choice, or something happened that forced you to travel differently than expected.

I remember this walk as if it happened yesterday.

I was living in Arizona, and I’d signed up to take a postal exam.  On the day of the exam, my sister drove me to the bus terminal.  I took a bus from Mesa, AZ to Phoenix, where the exam was being held.

While waiting in line to show ID, etc., I met a man who was very friendly and we began to talk.  We talked for over an hour while waiting for the exam to start. So we got to know each other pretty well in a short time.  I really connected with him.

Finally, an announcer told us to sit down and start the exam, and the man sat next to me.    We had two hours to finish the exam. When the exam time was up, we handed in our papers.  He stayed close to me all the time we were in the exam room.

As we were leaving, he told me he was going toward Mesa and he would be happy to give me a ride.  I thought about it and said okay.

As soon as we were on the road, his smile turned into a smirk, and I worried that he was going to do something to me.  And sure enough, I felt his hand grab my knee.  I took his hand away.  He said, “Don’t you like me touching you?”  I answered, “No, I don’t!”  and I moved closer to the right side of the door.  I couldn’t get out of the car because I was still in Phoenix and there was absolutely no bus transportation anywhere around. And it was too far a walk back to Mesa.  So I just stayed in the car  and put up with his greasy behavior and kept taking his hand off my knees.

I kept watching how close we were getting to Mesa.  Finally, when we entered Mesa, he stopped at a light.  I opened the door and quickly ran out of his car.  I called him a “pervert” before I slammed the door.  He yelled at me to get back in the car.  I did not answer him.  I couldn’t call my sister to come get me, because I had no phone with me, and it was the days before cell phones.  So here I was with no money, no phone and couldn’t get in touch with my sister.  So I began the journey back home.

Imagine July in Mesa, Arizona.   The temperature was hovering around 108.  It was hot, hot, hot.  I had no water.  I was sweating heavily, and I thought I was going to pass out.  But I kept walking.  Finally, I recognized my sister’s neighborhood.  I kept walking.  It took me 5 hours plus to get home in the heat.  By the time I reached my sister’s house, I looked like a red lobster.  My face was red, and I could hardly breathe. My sister saw me, made me sit down and put a damp cloth on my face.  I sat on my sister’s couch for a while  unable to move, or talk.

When I was able to talk, my sister asked me what happened, and I told her.  She asked me why didn’t I call her, and I explained why I couldn’t.

I’m very, very careful now with whom I share a car.  I rarely take offers of a free ride to anywhere. I’d rather walk.

By the way, this was not my longest walk, just the one I remember the clearest.

So, women, be careful when you take a ride from that nice man.  He might turn out to be a creep.

Countdown: 41 blogs to write.

Contact info: http://neverending1.WordPress.com

No one is allowed to leave a comment unless he/she reads my blog.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s