Was I in danger or did I just endanger myself?

That’s what I keep asking myself as the scene replays over and over in my mind.  I was in a hurry to get to the staff meeting, so I took the short cut on my bike of traveling down congested Sheldon Road, rather than taking the much longer Tampa Bay Trail path.  I prefer the trail, as it is shaded with great vistas of ponds, rail road tracks and pastures, but it adds another 15-20 minutes to my commute.

 

I was listening to a podcast, as usual, but broke from the trance of the talk as I approached one of the more difficult intersections.  It’s where old Linebaugh Road dead ends into Sheldon Road and it should have just been abandoned by the county when they moved Linebaugh further to the north.  It’s just a bad layout, due to the swamp on one side and all of the utility poles that cause the sidewalk to be a treacherous weave of concrete right at the blind corner.  I’ve taken to cutting the entire corner off, when I can, so that I don’t have to cross right at the intersection, but that adds time, and I don’t have that this morning.

 

I decide to make my crossing at the light in the intersection and pull my bike to a halt as I can see a car coming in my peripheral vision.  It’s in the turn lane and I know the car probably can’t see me, for all of the power poles and equipment stationed there, so I’ll wait until they make their turn before I ride across to the other side.

 

Instead, much to my surprise, the car screeches to a stop right next to me, half in and half out of the turn, which puts the small, white car in the position of being hit from behind because the next car to come barreling down through here probably won’t see them either.

 

There is no where for me to back up, to avoid being collateral damage, but before I’m through figuring that out, the passenger jumps out of the car.  He’s a thug right out of central casting; Latin, thickly muscled, covered in tattoos, wearing wife beater tank top, a bandana on his head, gold chains around his neck and dark shades.  If you were to describe the guy you would least likely want to run into in a dark alley, this guy is it.

 

He explodes out of the car toward me, but I don’t have time to figure out if he’s really trying to grab me or if there is some other reason that would make him jump out of the car at this incredibly dangerous spot.

 

Rather than sorting it all out, I glance both ways and see no other cars moving (there are a line of them waiting at the light) so I take off, into the intersection, across the line of traffic as fast as my shaking feet can pedal.

 

I don’t watch horror movies, but any scary movie always has the chase; where the victim keeps losing ground because they are turning around and looking to see if they are safe yet.  I am not going to lose time.  The guy looked fit.  He could catch up to me on foot as I am starting from a dead stop.  I just keep going and don’t stop until I get beyond the Costco parking lot to the new Linebaugh intersection.  There, I have to stop because it’s 6 lanes of traffic converging in both directions, so I take that opportunity to look back.

 

I don’t see him.  Maybe it was just a coincidence.  Maybe not.

 

Hi, I’m Carole Baskin and I’ve been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  These are my views and opinions. If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

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