tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6070994655591158907.post1508663831286780227..comments2023-09-30T11:51:27.224+01:00Comments on We liked it but not quite enough: Knight or nightmare?Writearoundhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04820159609095158259noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6070994655591158907.post-5830227095649225392007-09-21T23:28:00.000+01:002007-09-21T23:28:00.000+01:00His behaviour sounds weird. But how could he have ...His behaviour <I>sounds</I> weird. But how could he have gestured that your laptop strap was sticking out of the boot, without seeming obscene? I too have had the experience of being followed, nay flashed, for miles up the A1 in the dark, and finally into a layby, only to be told that my rear lights were out. "I've been shadowing you all this way to protect you", he said. I was much younger in those days, and/but I believed him. He seemed much relieved at having discharged a social duty, and sped off. He clearly felt awkward, seeing I was a lone female. Feeling like a criminal, but with no practical alternative, I put my rear foglights on to continue my journey home. <BR/><BR/>Men are warned never to stop for lone women; urban legends abound about how they can be stitched up. Beemer man was probably staying close to his webcam. <BR/><BR/>It's easier for women. I always stop for hitchhikers, and people walking by the road absolutely miles from anywhere, unless they look, you know, <I>weird</I>. It is sad if we can no longer trust strangers - though I think we still do, quite remarkably, and rewardingly, every day. We buy bread; we give way in traffic; in the pub, we say "Can you mind this while I go to the loo?" But please don't trust survivor evidence. Gut instinct is best.Annehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18308068899467100319noreply@blogger.com