I was driving home from a big big city near my little town late at night after a day there with this dude on our first date sometime in March of 2012. My date was asleep and his seat was reclined really low. We got into town at around 1am and I noticed this guy standing on the corner I was about to stop at at a red light. He looked like he was probably on something. He was talking to himself and pacing. I was a little nervous, but whatever. I’m a little too quick to judge people sometimes.
So I stopped and we accidentally made eye contact… At least I accidentally did. I could tell he was yelling at be cause I kept hearing “bitch” and some other… Uh… Things as I was stopped at the LONGEST RED LIGHT EVER as the guy I was with was sleeping cozily in the passenger seat (really really reclined.) After about 10 seconds of the guy cussing me out he hopped over to my car and swings the passenger door open REACHING FOR ME. I started screaming bloody murder and the guy I was on the date with woke up suddenly and started smacking the guy (I think it started as reflexes). The crazy guy is yelling “Fuck, man! Didn’t see you! Fuck! Oh fuck, didn’t see you! This bitch!” Etc., and my date pushed him out the door as I zoom off, running the red. He closed the door and yelled “WHO THE FUCK… WHAT THE FUCK WAS…?” I’m hyperventilating and then I started half laughing half crying because my nerves were shot.
We got some ice cream at 1am. Then I took him home and went home myself. We laughed about it. But, I don’t like to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.
About three years ago, I moved to London. I was looking for a flatmate, but had no luck. I turned to my friend, Marcus. After a week or two, Marcus and I moved in together. After we moved in, he put some of his stuff in storage so that he could make room for me in his flat.
When I moved in, everything was fine and well. Fast forward about a year. I went to get some stuff out of the storage locker that Marcus put his stuff in. As I opened the door, an absolutely RANK scent hit me like a bat. I switched the light on, and saw a couple old boxes, and a couch.
I was looking for the source of the smell, but I couldn’t find it. I grabbed what I came for, and left before I could vomit. Now, fast forward to about a month ago. I went back to the storage unit to get something else, and the smell was even worse than before. I had to hold my nose as I walked into the storage unit. I saw an open box, and I decided to look into it. I found stuffed animals. Like, dead animals that were stuffed. I looked into the box under that one, and I found rotting animals.
I was competently disgusted, so I went to Marcus to confront him. As I walked into the flat, I shouted “MARCUS, YOU SICK FUCK. WHY ARE THERE DEAD ANIMALS IN OUR STORAGE LOCKER?”. He came out of his room, and sat me down on the couch. He told me that he wanted to be completely honest with me, and he told me that he was into necrophilia.
Let’s just say that now I’m moved in with my parents.