Saturday, August 23, 2008

The Feel of Fear

Yesterday afternoon, H and I headed over to the local Italian bakery/grocery store, to stock up on her metric tons of fruit that she eats in a day...

I was picking out cherries for her, and she was in the cart next to me. As I turned around, there was a tall, thin man, in his late 30s would be my guess, long jeans on, a long sleeve shirt and sunglasses (not perscription), right there...like 2 feet away kinda thing. No cart, nothing in hand. I startled. He said "she's really a cutie." and then walked away. Mind you, it's in the mid-80s here...

I thought to myself...ok, there's an odd cookie and walked off towards the meat counter. Then I remembered we'd be bbq'ing, so I went back to the front of the produce section to get some beans. They were in a big pallet box...I'm digging thru the beans, and as I look up, he's on the next side around of the box. He smiles and walks away.

Ok, now I'm getting a bit freaked. So I walk across the front of the store, and head to the bakery to get H some kolachky. As I come around the corner, and start to pass all the checkout aisles, I see him standing there in the middle, still no food, no cart, glasses on, no one with him, looking to the left and right over and over again. As we pass him, he looks at H and says "Hi again, cutie."

I didn't know where he was when we checked out. So, I checked out, took my stuff out to the car with my keys in between my fingers. I dropped my 2 bags into the car, and took H out of the cart and walked right around the corner of the store to a fish store around the corner that services our tank at work. I know the owners, and they are big wrestler kinda guys. H and I hung out for 15-20 minutes checking out the tangs, angels, puffers and wrasses. I didn't want to be in the lot trying to wrangle a kid that's not to happy about car seats right now, vulnerable.

They guy was probably a socially awkward guy, but I didn't like it. I've learned over the years to trust that goosebump feeling on the back of my neck. I know I'm a worrywart, but I was actually scared for my daughter. I was creeped out. I was afraid something would happen to her, she would be taken away from me...it's a horrible feeling.

I called the store, told them what had happened. They said they were going to go thru the camera tapes and see if they could pick him out, to just be aware of the situation. They've earned my respect with that.

I kissed my daughter an extra 2000 times last night. I don't ever want to have to think that my daughter might be at risk again. It's a feeling I never ever want to feel again.

4 comments:

Precious Wonders and Little Monkeys said...

I am soooo sorry. I have felt that a few times and I think we were totally given that mother's intuition of danger for a good reason. I've had wackos come and kiss my kid and one grabbed her out of the cart to hold her! Freaks! Good job getting outta there and calling the store to check the tapes! May you never have to experience that again but I honestly don't want to take the fear away just because that's your intuition. I am so so sorry you had to experience this. Can I taser him? Sara/Sofa

kimmons said...

Ew, no- your intuition is right! The guy was creepy and very on the stalker-ish side, for sure.There's no reason for him to approach you or your child more than once.
It's one of the surprising side-effects of Motherhood. That vulnerable feeling for you and your child where you might not have had that before.
Follow your gut on this one. The guy was looking for some sort of opportunity.

Sue said...

Fortunatley she is too young to process what happened. So the "yuck" and vulnerable feelings are even worse for you - because you do understand that fear and it is ugly and you don't want it to ever affect your daughter. So glad you contacted the store and that they were pro-active. And I truly hope you don't ever go through this again.

Judi said...

No cart or items in his hands that he was buying? Then what exactly was he doing there? You definitely did the right thing. Great job, Mom.