What We Do on Friday Nights in the Country

Submitted by Eric:

Summer 2008, something that I will never, ever forget.

I went on a date with a girl who seemed normal. Yes, they all start that way, but she put up a good front.  We had a good time and agreed to meet up again.

This next time, she asked if she could pick me up to bring me somewhere.  Where?  A surprise.  Surprises are fine, as long as they don't end with me packed in a set of matched luggage.

She picked me up, wearing an elaborate pendant with a weird symbol that I've never seen before or since.  I asked her what it was all about.  She said it was the emblem of an angel.  Very well.

She drove us out of town and into the countryside.  I asked her again where we were going, and she again repeated that it was a surprise.

After a forty minute drive, she drove off to an unpaved side road.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" I asked.

"You'll see," she said.

It was dusk, and I began contemplating what it was that we were doing out there.  Stargazing?  A nighttime picnic?  My gruesome murder?

Well, I was one-third right.

She stopped the car near a crumbling, abandoned barn.  I asked, "Uh... what is this place?"

"Let's go," she replied, and I followed her out.  After all, what was the worst that could happen?

I followed her inside of the barn and stopped in the doorway.  At the far end, there was an altar.  Aside the altar sat a figure, a guy, in a black cape, standing next to a tiki torch.

I turned to her, asked, "What the hell is going on here?" but didn't even wait for a response, because my stomach was already lurching and my legs were already carrying me out and away.

Someone, either her or the big guy (or both) was right behind me and I ran into the woods, figuring that the danger of brambles and the forest was less than that of whatever sort of ritual I had just escaped.

I circled far around, found the dirt road, and followed it parallel (in the woods, about ten feet away) back to the road.  I thought that walking any distance on the main road would be a stupid idea, so I found a mile marker, called up AAA, and told them that my car had broken down and that I needed a ride to the nearest town.

In the meantime, I hid off to the side of the road, in case the girl or the guy came up the side road, looking for me.

The tow truck came, and I had to explain to the guy that there wasn't any car, but that I would gladly pay to be taken anywhere where civilization existed.

The nearest town was about fifteen minutes away, and yes, they counted this as one of my annual tow truck allowances, but I didn't care.  If anything, I was glad.  I was alive, for crying out loud.

I blocked everything I could of hers as soon as I made it home.  I'm so very, very grateful that we only exchanged e-mail addresses and not phone numbers.  I'm still looking over my back each day.

Be careful out there.


  1. You should have stuck it out and seen what was going on... could have been some weird sex act, or a reality tv show... or even better, both.

  2. she knows you live. muhahahahahaha.

  3. Never happened.

  4. The bs-o-meter is off the charts

  5. No freaking way this is true.

  6. "Aside the altar sat a figure, a guy, in a black cape, standing next to a tiki torch."

    sitting AND standing?

  7. now let's be fair. When a girl drives you out to a country barn and you see a guy SITTING and STANDING at the same time...I say that's probably the best time to run. If this story is true, you're a fool for going. If it's not true...you're a fool.

  8. the story would have a better ending if you had seen a burnt tiki torch on the back of the truck.

  9. lol this is so funny!
    And if true, he had his reasons for running, like living!

  10. i do think people need to be careful out there. he was wise to run. nothing is shocking anymore these days. even if it was some so called sexual fantasy, it's just too creepy and foolish to. just like women are taken off somewhere and attacked, doesn't mean that it can't happen to a guy. i agree... be smart and careful out there.


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