Saturday, May 15, 2010

Worry Wart

So my Dad said to me on my visit this last week, "don't be such a worry wart!"
My first reaction was, I am not a worrier I just am careful and conscientious.
But I couldn't get it off my mind as I drove into the Red Roof Inn that night at midnight on the way headed back home.
Doesn't everyone look around their surroundings and take stock of what is going on?
My body feels forever on the verge of fight or flight mode when I am in unknown territory.
My mind always takes it one step further.
As we unload our car at midnight I take stock of what is going on. A sixteen and eighteen wheeler truck sitting in the upper parking lot. Truckers always give me a sense of safety. Most of these guys would come to your defense if a problem arises. One of my best friends from high schools Dad was a trucker and although tough and burly and quick to swear, he was a stand up guy. So with no where else to park, after we unload in the no parking zone, I park up near them.
As we finish bringing the stuff into our room, top floor 3 flights up, I notice a guy standing outside his room leaning on the railing smoking and checking his flip phone. Flip, flip, flip, rhythmically as he reads his texts. He seems to be waiting.
Once I park the car I see a guy limping out of the shadows as I am coming toward him to climb the stairs. My body tenses, I do a quick check in my mind of where Mira is, 'In the room locked. Good.' Keys are in my hand the way I was taught from our INPAX defense training and I look for a quick way out of the oncoming threat. The guy moves into the light and with a nod of his head to me I see he is an elderly man, hunched over from years of hard work that also shows on the lines of his face. He is thin and I think, "one push of my pointer finger would make him teeter over". I can tell from his shirt name tag that he is the night guard. What I really want to do is grab a chair so he can sit down.
I go up to the room and the flip phone guy is still smoking and looking squirrely. He does a quick 'check me' out look. I walk straighter as if to say, "I got strength in this 5'5" body and I could probably take you down". I give him that 'don't even think about it look'.
Once inside, Mira rolls up in her bed covers and starts to snore immediately. I fuss around cleaning up, organizing to make a quick depart in the morning.
I hear Mr. Flip It still outside now talking on his phone.
I lie in bed looking at the ceiling imagining him talking to a druggy, and saying, "where are you your late" and giving directions. I can't really hear what he is saying but my imagination starts to go wild. I imagine they try to break down our door because somehow the deal goes awry and they are shooting. I have to pull Mira down to the floor inbetween the beds and when they stop shooting to break in the door I yell for her to get into the bathroom and lock the door. I jump over the bed do the knee kick to the gastrocnemius muscle and having had the forethought to grab a pen in my hand on the way as he goes down I shove it into his neck. Stabbing one side then the other and with all my might once he is down I jump my body onto his neck. Next guy in gets the same but Mr Flip It runs off when he sees what is happening. By then the cops are there and grab him on the way.
I continue to imagine different scenarios, sometimes nastier and worse, with always the same ending. Me taking the bad guy down.
My back begins to hurt from laying that way and my shoulder hurts from tensing with those thoughts. I wonder if Mr Flip It will go inside or is he continuing to do deals all night.
I don't get to sleep until 2 am after an hour or so of deep breathing and relaxation techniques.
In the morning as we are leaving I see Mr Flip It giving a woman his age a hug and a toddler a head tousle as he hands back his key to the office.
OK so maybe I do worry a little more than I should. But next time it really could happen!