Machete Man

     Sometimes, I do stupid things.  The stupid thing I'm going to tell you about today is that time I got chased by a man with a machete.  This happened when I was like, 16, and was kept as a highly classified secret because I feared that if my parents found out, they would lock me away until I was 78 or something.  Because obviously girls who get chased by men with machetes are not safe to be out and about.  But last Thanksgiving, the story came out to my parents and my aunt so it's safe for the rest of the world to know now.
    We just wanted an innocent adventure.  One of my cousins (the one I usually do stupid things with) was visiting and we met up with the guy I was seeing and, living in a small rural town, had absolutely nothing to do.  The answer was clear.  We had to go trespassing!
     We have some train yards in town.  I honestly don't know much about them.  I had never visited them prior to this night and, after what transpired, I have never been back.  To give you an idea of the train yards so you can accurately picture them in your mind and make this blog reading experience more exciting, the train yards are a grassy, brushy area.  With trains in it.  Fix this image in your imagination.  Now imagine that it was dark.  Because it was.
     I have no idea why we chose the train yards from among the vast options of other places to trespass but that's teenagers for you.  We parked my trusty white 1993 Corsica (Le Blizzard) a little ways away to be all sneaky like and hiked in.
     The train yards are creepy.  Our teenage minds were well able to imagine serial killer hobos hiding behind every bush and rock and entire hoards of zombified hobos (I'm afraid of hobos sometimes btw.  Not all the time.  Just sometimes) lurking in the rusty boxcars.  My cousin is afraid of snakes.  Being a mean creature, at every rustle of the grass I jokingly said "Ooooooooooh!  It's a snaaaaaaaaaaaaake!" causing her to shriek and me to giggle.
     Then there was a really big rustle in the bushes.  Too big for a snake.  Too big for a rabbit.  We paused, cocked our head to the side like spaniels and peered into the brush.  Stupid mistake.  Never pause.  Just run.
     A scary hobo man with ripped clothes and loooooooong stringy hair leaped out of the bushes shrieking like a banshee and waving a MACHETE!  For, the record, I did not see my life flash before my eyes.  I SAW A FRIGGIN' SCARY HOBO MAN WITH A MACHETE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES!
     I ran.  I ran all the way to my Corsica (Le Blizzard), fumbled the keys into the lock, dove in, locked it again, and waited.
     Where were the other two people in the party?  Were they chopped into little teenager bits for hobo stew?  Were they strung up and having their skins peeled off to make kid suits?  Were they still alive, fighting this scary hobo man tooth and nail and cursing me for abandoning them?  I was all a dither.
     Luckily, both of them soon came racing out of the woods.  They hopped in the car and away we sped.
     Here is what happened.  I ran (like a sane person), the guy tried to run but there was a hole and he tripped in it and fell down.  My dear, dear cousin, God bless her soul, continued watching the crazy hobo with the machete.  Luckily for her, the machete man got tangled in the bushes.  And fell down with a giggle.  Obviously she had to stop and laugh at him.
     So, that's the story of the Machete Man.  It was scary, but we all survived!.  I have other stories where I do stupid things!  I will tell them to you sometime!

*Note:  I was going have a sweet picture of a scary man with a machete but I am at a place.  And google imaging "machete man" brought up very graphic images.  I don't want the other people here to be really creeped out as I quietly sit here looking at blood and gore.  Might give the wrong impression.

**Note:  Machetes are scary.  So I put a picture of a puppy up instead.  I stole it from the internet.