I feel like I’ve been in multiple shitty situations where I was saved by being dumb or weird and the would-be attacker being either confused or amused enough to let me be.
Not the most exciting, but I once answered a skeezy call at 2:00am. It was a holiday, so I was one of maybe 6 people in the dormitory. It was very much a horror story setup. The caller said something unpleasant and it was 2:00am so I didn’t really get what he said. “I’m sorry, could you call back tomorrow? Be happy to talk about it then, but right now I’m super tired.”
Probably wouldn’t have even remembered it if the young woman across the hall hadn’t gotten a call the same night. She told me about it the next day. He somehow managed to briefly convince her that he was her highschool boyfriend. They talked for a few minutes before she realized it wasn’t him.
As for me? Dirty bastard never called me back.
(Probably necessary context: College, early nineties, there was a campus phone book that literally gave your name, dorm, room, and phone extension. Finding a woman alone during the holiday was as easy as looking at rooms with lights on and checking the book.)
OMG you triggered a memory. 1990 college girls dorm, same setup with the phone numbers. Guy would call and ask us about our fingernails. Eventually we started talking about it and older ones would warn the new ones moving in…
Girl code at its best. That de-escalates getting that call from a horror movie situation into, “Oh - this is the fingernail creeper they’ve told us about. Bye.”
I never heard about a repeat performance from our caller. Now I’m curious if he graduated or what.
I feel like I’ve been in multiple shitty situations where I was saved by being dumb or weird and the would-be attacker being either confused or amused enough to let me be.
Not the most exciting, but I once answered a skeezy call at 2:00am. It was a holiday, so I was one of maybe 6 people in the dormitory. It was very much a horror story setup. The caller said something unpleasant and it was 2:00am so I didn’t really get what he said. “I’m sorry, could you call back tomorrow? Be happy to talk about it then, but right now I’m super tired.”
Probably wouldn’t have even remembered it if the young woman across the hall hadn’t gotten a call the same night. She told me about it the next day. He somehow managed to briefly convince her that he was her highschool boyfriend. They talked for a few minutes before she realized it wasn’t him.
As for me? Dirty bastard never called me back.
(Probably necessary context: College, early nineties, there was a campus phone book that literally gave your name, dorm, room, and phone extension. Finding a woman alone during the holiday was as easy as looking at rooms with lights on and checking the book.)
OMG you triggered a memory. 1990 college girls dorm, same setup with the phone numbers. Guy would call and ask us about our fingernails. Eventually we started talking about it and older ones would warn the new ones moving in…
Girl code at its best. That de-escalates getting that call from a horror movie situation into, “Oh - this is the fingernail creeper they’ve told us about. Bye.”
I never heard about a repeat performance from our caller. Now I’m curious if he graduated or what.