“Save it, because whatever you have to tell me is not going to Trump this,” I said. He let me speak. I immediately started bawling my eyes out, barely able to tell the story. First, I cried over my friends, who didn’t try and stop me from getting into K’s car. Next, I cried over not stopping myself from getting into K’s car. Finally, I cried over how guilty I felt for thinking that K was going to kill me, when it turned out he had stepped up to the plate like no one else ever had in my life. Right away, my friend at “The Centre” told me to stop crying about my friends. He said that at “The Centre” we don’t cry over people that don’t cry over us. So just stop. I still cried. Stop! Stop! Stop! I stopped. Then I started again. No, stop! I stopped. He told me to focus on how fortunate I am. He said this was the greatest Christmas story he’d ever heard in his life. Better than anything he’d ever seen on the big screen or TV. He told me that K had saved my Christmas!
“But I’m Jewish,” I said. Whatever, that was only a minor detail in the grand scheme of things, my friend at “The Centre” told me. He was so excited to hear about everything K and I had talked about in the car. With great enthusiasm, I told him what I could remember about the conversation.
“Oh and get this! K is such a mensch, that after he dropped me off, he went to help a friend plow driveways,” I said, as if I was bragging about my own son. My friend at “The Centre” was especially interested about K being a personal trainer. He asked if I got any good workout tips from him?
“Of course not,” I laughed. “I thought the only exercise I’d ever be doing again was in physio, for all my broken bones.” I told my friend that I was planning to buy K a Christmas present and we talked about things he might like. Then suddenly, my friend at “The Centre,” came up with what he thought I should write in the card.
“Dear K. I hope you have a Merry Christmas, and p.s. thank you for not raping or killing me!”
That was how the laughter really started. I mean, because what it came down to was I had been extremely stupid. Getting into a stranger’s car was probably the most foolish thing I’d ever done in my life. In most cases, all odds would have pointed to something terrible happening to me. You are so fucking lucky is what my friend at “The Centre” told me over and over. He said I had the most unbelievable luck in the world and that’s all it was, luck, just like the lottery. One in a billion win. I happened to win that night. He was very insistent that I keep in touch with K. He said he was even jealous of me now that I had my own personal bodyguard. I could call him whenever I wanted to get into a club, or if I needed any kind of help. He’d probably give me free training sessions if I asked…I mean who in the world gets that sort of treatment from their kidnapper and rapist? My friend at “The Centre” did an excellent job in helping me find the silver lining in all this and I hope he knows how much I appreciated it.
Later that day I spoke to my friend the Naturopath doctor, Dr. Regan T. (click here to book an appointment.) After I told Dr. Regan T the story, she said she was going to call around to some of her friends from the “club scene.” She wanted to find out if anyone knew K. After all, he now knew where I lived and she wanted to make sure I would be safe. There’s something you should know about Dr. Regan T. Not only is she a fabulous Naturopath doctor (click here if you happened to miss the link above), but she is fast and she is GOOD at getting the 411 on anything. I've never known her to not be able to complete a mission. Within five minutes I received a text from her.
“My friend knows K. He said he’s a great guy.”
I sighed with relief. Thank God! Not only did someone know him, but that person also thought K was great. It was completely crazy that Dr. Regan T was able to track down someone that knew him. I mean what are the chances? Just as I was about to text her back, the humor in all this hit me and I started cracking up. I called her instead of texting.
“Well OBVIOUSLY he’s a great guy,” I said, laughing. “I think I could be the reference for him on that one." To this day, we still laugh over the urgency we had to find someone to confirm he was "great."
The next day, I texted K. It had now been over 24hours since the incident and I wanted to thank him and see how he was doing. He texted me back:
“Don’t be silly. You don’t need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you for trusting me. It really meant a lot.”
Gulp! Was this guy for real? He was grateful to me for trusting him? Had he not sensed that I was a crazy, racist, non-trusting, filled with fear, psycho bitch? I made another call to my friend at “The Centre.” He was speechless and strongly encouraged me to go and get my prescription filled. This situation could no longer be deciphered in my natural state.
A couple days after Christmas, I stopped by Best Buy to pick up a gift card for K. I planned on taking it down to the club where he worked, to give it to him later on that evening, when the doors opened. I even had to turn down some of my friends who wanted to come with me so they could meet him, because I didn’t want K being hounded by his fan club. However, that didn’t stop my brother. As I was getting ready to go down to the club, my brother called to tell me not to bother going. He said he had taken the liberty to go over to the club himself because he also wanted to thank K. When he got there, another doorman told him that K no longer worked there anymore. Confused, I immediately texted K and asked what was up. He texted me back saying that he had quit his job to pursue full time personal training. He said that he had been so inspired by me on the ride home. He thought it was amazing that I had so bravely followed my dream and written a book. He said that he had felt stuck in that club world for too long and that my encouraging words had really helped him turn his life around. My faith in him was exactly the kick in the ass he needed to get on with his life. He was impressed by how chilled I was and that I really had my shit together. He ended it with,
“I’m so glad that we are friends now and hey, If you ever want any personal training sessions, let me know. I’ll give you some for free!”
So there it was, the conversation I couldn’t remember. In it, I had boosted his confidence to pursue a better career path, yet at the same time was thinking he was going to pull out a gun and shoot me at any moment. The way K had perceived that car ride and the way I did were completely different. I got out of that black SUV a complete disaster, feeling lucky to be alive. K drove home feeling so inspired by me that he quit his job and stepped up his life a few notches. Believe me, I couldn't make this up if I tried. Life is just funny sometimes!
Thanks for reading and please learn from my mistake. Don’t EVER get into a car with a stranger. Unfortunately, there are not enough happy endings in these situations. I know how fortunate I was and am forever grateful for it.
Love and Silver Linings