I was once followed a little over three miles home from work. This was about a year ago, so it was already pitch black when we closed the store down at 6pm. The person who followed me was a customer I'd served no less than three hours before that moment, so he'd waited a long time for me. When he approached me, it wasn't on the shop floor. It wasn't even outside when we brought the shutters down. It wasn't on the well-lit high street. It wasn't at the bus stop. It wasn't on the bus. It wasn't when I was on the well lit pavement that leads me back to the estate I live on.
No, it was in the dark street I walk down every damn day, where the lamp posts are about sixty metres apart and where trees cover most of their light. Not many people walk on it, or drive through it, but I was lucky that night. This man, who was in his late twenties jogged up to me - I was aware someone was running behind me by his shadow bounding up next to mine, so I put my muscles into defence mode. I was ready for a fight, if need be. I turned the instant he reached me and grabbed my arm. At the same time, a loud couple emerged from a building on the other side of the road for their night out.
He then stuttered and said: "Errr.... um. HEY. I SAWYOU AT CAMDEN. I wanted to know if you'd go out...with me."
Now, why the **** would anyone FOLLOW someone three miles just to ask them out, and wait until they were in a dark, almost deserted street to say anything? And grab their arm? What gave him the impression that I wanted him to follow me home when I served him at work? My smile? The fact I asked for his store card? The fact I put his change back into his hand, and said to have a good night? What was I wearing? At work, my usual dark jeans, trainers and my work top. On the way home, I was wearing my jeans, trainers, work top, jumper, long coat, scarf, gloves and had my bag around me instead of over one shoulder.
When he left, and was walking back in the opposite direction to where he was going, I was petrified. The couple on the other side of the road waited the whole time to make sure he didn't try and follow me around the corner. Was he just very innocent? Or was his intentions far more sinister? I'll thankfully never know, but I'll forever know that it is possible I can be followed home, whether I'm wearing an oversized, unflattering t-shirt at work or not. Do I take another route home? No. Should I? Sure, if anyone can recommend a well lit, busy route through a giant council estate that won't take me another half an hour to get to safety. Do I start asking my brother to meet me at the bus stop? What, so HE can walk through the dark estate full of overly-bred chav scum who'll want to start a fight over postcodes or "turf"?
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