Almost got murdered

Just got back home. I went out to eat with a couple of friends, one of whom was up from out of state to visit. We turned off the highway onto an exit, and right around the corner, just out of sight after the turn, a white car is parked mostly in the road, with the door open. No hazards on, guy just sitting there in the car. I got a horrible, instant realization that it was intentional and not a problem with his car, and I yelled at her to reverse immediately. The guy gets out of the car, fists clenched, eyes bugged out of his head, stumbling and taking very, strange jerky steps, directly towards us. She froze and started shaking. I had to scream at her to reverse, even though cars are piling up behind us. Told her to let the cars go in front of us, keep backing up slowly, and he ignores the other vehicles, still staring at the two girls in the front seat, just beelining right for us. We manage to pull up as the other vehicles are also trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, and he seemed to get confused by the amount of cars passing him now, and turns around and started heading back to his vehicle. I am positive it was to grab some sort of weapon or gun. Manage to squeeze around and accelerate past him, and she's sobbing now. I am very certain that he was on heavy drugs and alcohol, and had a psychotic breakdown from the look of him. He wasn't asking for help, he wasn't trying to rob anyone, this guy blocked traffic on a highway with the intention of probably murdering the first person he was able to block in. I am still adrenaline rushing even now thinking about it.

Lone taxi driver in a foreign country

I'd like to start this out with, I've always been into true crime. And at the time this happened I was in the best, strongest shape of my life. Still, I looked lean so I'm sure that wasn't what he was thinking. I had just turned twenty that weekend and was studying abroad in a tiny town of 300 people in the Netherlands, on the border of Germany. I had spend the weekend visiting my mom in London, and knew getting back to said tiny town would be a nightmare. But I didn't know how much of one.

How this worked was, I took a quick plane from the closer airport to get to London. But if I wanted to stay longer, I'd have to fly to an airport about an hour and a half away, take a train to the end of the line, and find a taxi at a small station. All at around 9/10 at night.

I did this all and was already on edge, but when I got to the station there were no taxis. It was extremely desolate, save for one car. I had a suitcase, and when they saw me they turned on the light in their car.

It was an older man, large with white hair. I saw that he had a taxi screen inside the car and I waved. He rolled the window down and confirmed that he was a taxi. I told him my small town and he knew it. The concierge at the hotel in London had told me this would only be a twenty minute cab ride, so I figured I could hold my ground if anything went down and got in.

Now, I am not very conversational, but this guy was. The second I got in the car and he drove, he started telling me I looked like his wife. I smiled, and said it was very sweet.

"She's dead," he said, and my blood ran cold.

Something y'all should know about me is when I'm with a stranger and I want them to know nothing about me, I put on the persona of an American southerner who goes to church. Since most American men who make me feel uncomfortable have responded positively to that, I roll with it.

So the SECOND time he told me she was dead, I said, "I'm so sorry— I'm sure she's in heaven."

"No," he said. "I think she's in hell."

NO shit this is when I start thinking about what I can use as a weapon in this car. Nothing. So instead I go for the "give a bunch of (fake) details about yourself."

"I'm ROTC," I said. "Like American military. I love it. I've been training a lot."

"Are you married?" (He asked this at least ten times)

"No, but my boyfriend is in the military too. I just texted him. He knows I'll be back soon."

Didn't have a boyfriend; didn't serve in the military. But I had been doing Navy SEAL exercises to stay in shape because I was obsessed with fitness. And on more than one occasion I'd been asked by Italians at the gym if I was in the military. That likely inspired that part of the story— that and wanting to seem hard to kidnap.

At this point the drive had gone on for far longer than twenty minutes. We were driving through the woods on dirt roads with no lighting. My entire body was tense.

"Are you married?" He asked again.

"I just got back from visiting my mom in London. My dad works for the US government. He's in the CIA. I want to be just like him one day."

I was completely ignoring his questions as the time went up.

The man stopped the car and started staring at me, but I didn't break. I smiled at him.

"Do you need help with directions?" I asked. "I'm good with them. I know the area really well."

He made something of a sigh and put the car back in drive. In another ten minutes or so we made it to my school, where thankfully a group of students were smoking outside.

"Thank you," I yelled, giving him the fare that was on the screen. I dragged my bag there and stayed with the group of smokers.

"Hey," I said to them with a smile. "That taxi driver was giving me really bad vibes, so let's stay out here until he leaves."

I didn't want him to know the dorm I lived in, which was right by the entrance.

He stayed for about fifteen or twenty minutes just watching us before he left. But I'm alive to this day and am very grateful either that I made myself too tough or too annoying a potential victim for him.