The Marta Chronicles

The freaks don't just come out at night, they come out at all times of the day (and night) and in most cases can be seen hanging out at the stations, getting ready to board a train (if not already seated) - some even wear those blue jackets and call themselves "supervisors."

Don't take my word for it, ride it yourself - you'll be scared you did!

My adventures have picked up. Since I'm now taking the train to the Georgia State University train station. I will begin with Wednesday - I get off the train - my first day reporting to my new job. At the corner of Piedmont and Decatur, a young man greets me as if we are old and dear friends. I return his hello but do nothing to hide my surprise and confusion - plus I'm looking at him as if to say "Do I know you?" He smiles, "I know you don't know me, but I saw you on the train . . ." The light changed and I crossed, he followed. I tell him, politely goodbye - but he continues to follow me into the Urban Life Building. I turn to him and say: "I'm sorry, but I think you're a bit too young for me." "No, I just had a birthday a few weeks ago." As if having a birthday suddenly makes him old enough. He tells me he is 31 (which I do not believe) then asks me if I'm involved and I tell him yes, hoping he'd get a clue and leave me alone. "For how long," he asks - feeling my lie - of course. I tell him a year - then turn into the bathroom, where I stay for 3 minutes, hoping he's gone when I come out. But lo and behold, he's waiting for me. He hands me a piece of paper with his name and number on it - tells me if I ever want a friend to talk to, please call him. "Thanks," I reply - turn and head for the elevators.

On this same day, around 5:30pm, on my way home, before I can even get to the station I encounter a man wearing an "army" jacket. He's neat, clean - has a nice voice. Tells me I am soooo beautiful, several times while walking beside me. I know he's getting ready to ask for money - he doesn't look homeless but has begger sketched across his forehead in subliminal letter. "I'm struggling, sister - came here fron Indiana to start a singing career and it fell through. The people here are so rude." So, on behalf of the people here, I apologized to him for us being so rude. He says thanks. Then proceeds to ask for a coupla bucks to get something to eat.

I tell him I have none to spare - with an I'm so sorry tacked to it. He smiles and continues: "Damn, you're just too beautiful - especially that hair. I love that hair - so wild and free. You should give me your number so we can keep in touch - maybe I can fix dinner for you sometime." WHAT THE FU.....

That was on Wednesday. Thursday, walking from the station to get home - a nice shiney sports car pulled up beside me and the male driver asked if I wanted a ride. No thanks, I said and picked up my pace. He sat there for a second before driving off (maybe he thought his car would impress me) but it made me think of the time I walked out of a medical building (where I used to be employed) to get to the bus stop. A man standing beside his car smoking says "hello" and I respond with "Hi, how are you?" and continue on my way. He asks if I want a ride and I tell him "no", then he mumbles something but I ignore him. At the stop, I spy him climbing into his car. I knew he was going to turn my way, and ask again or drive by slowly giving me the eye (that up and down look). He turns his vehicle out of the parking deck and heads towards me slowing down, then parking in front of me, the passenger window slides down.

He asks: "You wanna ride this?" At first I thought it was a gun, so I stared because I was confused. I'm serious. I thought that I was being robbed or something, then my bad eyesite gave way to a clearer vision and I was aware that he was exposing himself to me. He laughed, loud and proud . . . By then, the bus was coming my way and he started his car and disappeared quickly but not quick enough - I remembered his liscence plate number - but to no avail - when I reported it, the cops didn't do anything. In fact, they asked me why it took me so long to call them. I called the police when I stepped into the house (20 minutes later) - and the dispatcher said she'd have an officer call me. The next day I contacted my employer before coming in and they called the police as well. No one called back. The cops called over the weekend and left a message with the answering service, who paged the owner - because she thought there was an emergency. But to make a longer story a bit shorter - the police finally returned my calls (and those of my employer) on Monday (and the incident happened on a Thursday). I gave the officers a clear description of the car, the driver and the plate number. In fact, I still remember the color and make of the car and the first part of the liscense plate number (LBX...).

On Friday - on my way up the escalators - I sensed someone following me. I turned around, and there was this strange man coming up behind me. I turned again and looked him straight in the eyes. He moved up one more step, so that there was no room between us, then he whispered: "You ain't scared, is ya?" Yes, I was horrified but I wasn't going to let him know. I turned towards him and said "No," as he grinned behind teeth that looked as though a child had taken a black marker and colored in every other one. As frightened as I was, I was also angry, so angry that if I'd had a gun, I would have cleared out the remaining teeth inside his Freddy Krueger head.

posted by Darni @ 2/10/2001 07:32:00 AM

I have alot to tell, will update later this evening. Started a new job and I don't have the time like I used to. But I got some funny true stuff for ya!

posted by Darni @ 2/09/2001 02:18:00 PM