Fight, Flight or Foolishness?

Friday, July 18, 2008

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Fight, Flight or Foolishness?

By J’AMY PACHECO

I’m not the bravest person in the world, but neither am I the most paranoid. When it comes to fear, I suspect I’m pretty mainstream. So I’m not sure what to make of something that happened in the parking lot of the local video store a few days ago.

My daughter and I pulled in, expecting to return some videos and bring home some new ones. I parked the car facing away from the store. My attention was caught by a young man running across the street I faced.

It’s a busy street with four traffic lanes and a turn lane. Running across it was, I observed, either pretty brave, downright foolish or an act of desperation.

The muscular young man was dressed in black, from the cloth tied around his head to his shoes. He continued running until right before he reached my car. When he abruptly slowed to a casual walk, I instructed my daughter to stay buckled. I locked the doors.

He passed my car closely, then continued toward the video store. I watched in the mirror as he approached the front of the store, then veered left and went around the corner. I decided it was okay to get out — until I noticed him looking into the side windows of the video store, then returning to the front.

Just as he reached the front door, he reached behind his back, under his shirt. Convinced that I was going to see a gun come out, I threw my cell phone to my daughter and backed my car out of the parking space. I didn’t want to call anybody until I knew for sure there was a reason, but wanted to move my daughter to a safe place in case there was.

But as I drove out of the parking lot, I saw him enter the video store empty handed. Immediately after he entered, a group of workmen entered the store carrying tools and ladders.

I told my daughter that a person would have to be crazy to rob a store full of workmen carrying tools, and suggested it was probably safe to go in. Besides, I didn’t have anything except fear and suspicion to keep me from returning the videos.

“Mom,” she said. “Let’s just go home.” So we did.

It’s not the first time I’ve removed myself from a situation that felt “wrong.” I remember several occasions – the most notable being the time I was in my teens and applying for a job at a temp agency in downtown Los Angeles.

The agency was on an upper floor of an old building on Olive Street, and I had to take an elevator. As soon as I got on the elevator, alone, a man who had just exited the elevator got back in. Without even thinking about it, I got out of the elevator and pretended to look at the building directory.

The man also got out, and stood in the otherwise deserted lobby. In what was then a rare demonstration of common sense, I left the building. I still don’t know why that happened, but I’m glad I didn’t wait around to see.

A more recent example took place just a few weeks ago in the food court at the local mall. I was having lunch with my daughter when I noticed a teenaged boy carrying two backpacks.

I can’t even articulate what it was about the boy that so creeped me out – the way he kept moving around the food court, the face he made as he stared at different groups of people, or the way he held the backpacks. Whatever it was, I made my daughter throw her pizza away, and we left.

Perhaps I’ve read too many stories about mass shootings, takeover robberies and serial killers. Maybe I’ve seen too many episodes of “24” on DVD. Or maybe the persistent little voice inside my head just has a lot of fun seeing me react when it says, “Run!”

Now and then, I feel guilty about my flight response. I wonder if I’m making snap judgments based upon stereotypes. I also worry that I may be teaching my daughter to judge others based upon appearances.

The day after the video store incident, I read a newspaper article about a would-be robber shooting a woman in her front yard. The shooter’s description matched that of the guy I’d seen running across the street, right down to the all-black clothing. However, that incident took place about 45 miles away from where my video store is located.

I know it’s unlikely that it’s the same guy. It’s probably unfair of me to even wonder if it’s possible, but that little voice keeps asking, “What if?”

I guess I’ll never know.