Recently, Mrs. Ceetee and I were out shopping in an area thirty minutes away from home. We were in her car, a well-maintained and new-looking Acura. I was driving. We live off the highway, around four miles down a narrow, winding road. Despite the twisty-turney conditions of the road, it's an important artery for people to take because it's a good shortcut from here to there, so there's more traffic down this road than you would think.
I didn't notice anyone following us home from the store, but a short distance from the turnoff onto out street, a white car drove up close behind. Not exactly tailgating, but close. The driver had his high beams on, and it was a cloudy gray day, so I couldn't see who was in the car. All I could tell was that the car itself was a white boxy-looking thing, it had that late seventies Mercury look going on. This car had followed closely behind us for a good two miles by the time I came up to our driveway.
I didn't know his intentions, and a great many people drive like this, so I wasn't really in Condition Red - more like Orange - when I pulled off into my driveway. I stopped a couple car lengths from the road because I wanted to get out and check the mail. As I unfastened my seatbelt, I looked in the mirror and saw this car pull into my driveway behind me. Since the lights were no longer in my eyes, I could tell that it was occupied by two black males that appeared to be in their early twenties. One had really wild hair, like an afro that needed combing really badly. And he needed a shave. As soon as I saw them pull in, my hand went to the Officer's Model strapped to my belt.
I watched them in my mirrors as they looked at the rear of our car. We sat like that for a good ten seconds, as Mrs. Ceetee said, "Well, are you going to go get the mail or what?"
I remembered to breathe again when I saw them reverse out of my driveway and go back the way they came from. I still waited a good five more seconds before I got out of my vehicle to go "get the mail".
It wasn't until much later that I realized:
1. I couldn't give a decent description of either man in the car.
2. I never bothered to get the license number of the car.
3. I can't even tell you the make or model of the car.
4. Sometimes time passes really quickly, but really slowly at the same time.
All-in-all, I'm satisfied with the outcome of the encounter - it may well have been an innocent thing (or like Mrs. Ceetee said, "See? They just needed to turn around."). I'm highly upset at myself for not being as observant as I obviously should have been.
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