You say paranoia, I say vigilance

By: AGNES DIGGS - North County Times | Monday, May 16, 2005 9:07 PM PDT ∞

Did I tell you I suffer from what I call urban hypervigilance?

Some call it paranoia, but that sounds so antiseptic.

Nowhere am I more likely to suffer an attack of it than in an underground parking garage. Like last Friday.

I was in a hurry, so I did something I would never ordinarily do ---- parked between two supersized vans.

I kept my appointment and was on my way downstairs when it sank in that my car was wedged between two vehicles that were both the size of a guest house.

Mindful that these concrete parking mazes are favorite hideouts for werewolves and vampires, I dug out my keys as soon as I got on the elevator.

As I walked toward the space where I had parked, the ceiling light over it promptly went off. Apparently, it was the kind that polices itself to conserve energy.

Or maybe that's just what The Boogeyman wanted me to believe.

Startled by the sudden darkness, I did the unthinkable ---- dropped my keys.

It was like a Hollywood script of my worst nightmare.

I scooped up the handful of metal and sneaked up on my car as if expecting a legion of demons to emerge, checking both sides and, yes, peeking underneath.

Then I scouted each of the vans to make sure they were unoccupied.

During this process, I managed to scare the heck out of a man who was getting out of his car two spaces away. He gave me a wide berth on his way into the lobby.

Now I know this behavior must seem strange to you. I just can't help being, well, vigilant. Yes, I have been teased for it, but habit dies hard.

I saw how hypervigilance looks a few years ago when I was dating a police officer in another part of the world.

It was early in the relationship and we were still getting to know one another. He took me to dinner one night and, very much a romantic, he suggested afterward that we take a walk in the city park. After opening the car door to hand me out, he went around, opened the trunk and took something out.

It suddenly occurred to me that it was dark, the hour was late, and I didn't really know him that well.

As we walked down the path toward the park entrance, I bumped against him and felt the cold hard press of metal against the silk of my blouse. I jumped about a foot.

"Is that I gun?" I asked, indignant.

He nodded, but before he could say anything, I took another step back.

"So, have you been hearing stories that I'm hard to get along with?" I asked sarcastically.

Seemingly frustrated, he said, "Look, I'm a police officer. I see crime reports, and I know what goes on in this park. And there's no way I'm going to take you in there with no way to protect you."

Yep, he was a keeper.

Still, it pays to be careful, even when others think it's silly.

You might not be lucky enough to have a Blue Knight around when you need one.

Contact staff writer Agnes Diggs at (951) 676-4315, Ext. 3511, or adiggs@californian.com.

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