Well since I told you guys the story of my first creepy bus encounter, I figured I’d tell the story of my last one.
So this time, I was in high school, freshman or sophomore so about 14 or 15 years old but still look much younger. I still rode the city bus to school because again, no school buses routed to my neighborhood. My mom could have dropped me off at that time but she started work at 8 and my school started at 9 so I was not interested in being at school at around 7:15. I also, for whatever reason, had not told her about my first creepy encounter.
That morning, I get on the bus as usual. It’s not empty but not full. I was part of JROTC in high school and that day was uniform day so I’m wearing my uniform. If you’ve ever seen female military uniforms, you know that they’re the least flattering thing in the world. I include this description in case there’s any chucklefucks out there who think what you’re wearing when you get creeped on make a difference.
So I’m sitting in my seat surrounded by my big ass backpack and guitar case for my music class. Suddenly this dude just materializes in front of me. I look up and see this guy, average height, sandy colored thin hair, and drug skinny with a tweaker face so he could be anywhere from 20-40. He stands awkwardly in front of me and then thrusts his arm out and holds a folded piece of paper in front of me.
He gestures for me to take it and it’s so early in the morning and I’m so confused that I take it and he walks away. I open it and read it. It’s a note he wrote that said something along the lines of “Hey, my name is Creep and I’ve been watching you for awhile now but I’m switching buses soon so here’s my phone number, call me” and had a number written down. I can barely process what I’ve just read and I can just feel his eyes on me.
I arrange my stuff in the empty seats around me like a barrier and when my stop comes, I fly off the bus. I ran to the ROTC building where I would usually hang out before school. I burst into the building and basically tackled one of the ROTC instructors and clung to him, shaking like a leaf and crying, holding the note and talking incoherently.
Now our instructor was obviously retired military. He took the note from me, read it, and got the most steely-eyed look. He sat me down in chair and walked over to the school phone on the table. He calmly dialed the number and that dumb, creepy motherfucker answered.
My instructor asked if his name was Creep. The guy said yes. Then he quickly told him that he was my father and asked why in the fuck did you, a grown man, give my 14 year old child your phone number?! The creep basically just went uh, well, uh while my my instructor released a stream of very experienced, ex-military based threats until he could hear the guy just about shit his pants. He finally told him never to contact me and hung up and gave me a huge smile and a hug. I was smiling through my tears at that point, having listened to his tirade.
I called my mom, told her what happened, and she came down to the school and we went and filed a police report. I told her I was never getting on a city bus again and I didn’t care if I had to be at school 2 hours early, I wanted her to drop me off until I could drive. So that’s what happened.
That instructor was always my favorite teacher and I still go visit him, even after graduating college. I imagine someday at my wedding, he’ll tell this story.