Listening To Your Sixth Sense

It's been over 24 hours since three men made their best attempt at mugging me after I got off the bus on my way home from work. They failed, thank God. But I keep thinking about a couple of things:

1) Why did they pick me as their mark? -- I'm still not sure what the answer is to this one. Maybe because I looked so tired? Because I had a massive headache? They were inspired by the double rainbow we'd had a mere half hour earlier and thought they'd find someone with Irish heritage to mess with in case I was pals with the leprechaun and he'd hooked me up with the pot of gold?

2) How did I know what was up so quickly? -- You ever get the feeling that someone is up to no good or is doing wrong, even if you haven't seen it yet? Well, I actually think I could feel these guy's intentions. People debate how much communication is non-verbal vs. verbal, but I've had enough of these sorts of experiences now (being mugged or people attempting to do so) that I think we can sense intention if your antennas are up. Call it bad vibes. Bad energy. Whatever it is, it's something that says louder than words, "I mean to do you harm."

When I stood up to get off the bus, I noticed them, and noticed how one jumped up and made his way to the door before me - he left his friends he was riding with to do that.

Hmm... if you're chilling with your homies, you're all going to get up and off the bus together. You wait for your friends. Instead, he went down the steps before me and made a big show of pretending to hold the automatic door open for me.

Right from that moment, I knew. It was the look in his eyes as he stood there fake-holding that door... THAT gave it away. He was trying to hide something but there was also a weird aggressiveness to him. Too many conflicting energies and it set off the hairs on the back of my neck.

His friends came off the bus behind me and the three followed me to the intersection a few yards away from the bus stop. I tested my vibe at the stoplight by pretending I was waiting to cross the street heading north. I stood there like I was waiting for a walk signal. They stood behind me facing the same direction. When the walk signal started flashing, I didn't move. And guess what, they didn't either. When I turned to wait for the walk signal to cross the street heading east instead, they turned too.

Once I started crossing the intersection, they followed. I walked uphill a couple car lengths and then jaywalked diagonally to the other side of the street. They followed.

I zigzagged back and forth across the street two more times and on the last one, only two of the guys crossed the street to follow me. The third darted ahead - I'm guessing in anticipation of me crossing back over to his side of the street - and if I'd done so, he would've been in front of me, his two buddies behind me - bingo. Trapped.

What did I do? I took off running uphill as fast as I could. What's the point of training for a marathon, putting in all this time running hills if I can't use that to save myself? The two guys on my side started running, too, so I darted through oncoming traffic while crossing another street and then lost them as I ran another two blocks uphill.

These are not bunny hills around here. They're steep and long - and even with all my training I think adrenaline and an angel watching over me helped me evade my would-be attackers. When I finally got to my destination - our local recreation center - my heart was ringing in my ears and I was out of breath. But I was OK and intact.

I don't know what they'd planned. I'm glad I didn't have to find out. I'm just glad I trusted myself enough to listen to the warning bells going off in my subconscious.

How often do we get those warning bells but we proceed anyway, brushing off the reaction of our "sixth sense" when we should pay attention to it more than ever? It's too easy to say to yourself, "Oh, I'm just tired," or "Oh, I'm being prejudiced to be wary of three guys in their 20s." What if I'd been worried those guys would be offended that I crossed the street?

We women are trained to think like that. Trained to disregard our feelings, our intuition. The only time I haven't listened to it, I ended up getting robbed at gunpoint.

So, for safety's sake, I'm glad I run, I'm glad I listen to my sixth sense, and I'm glad God and the angels protect me in this rough and tumble City of Los Angeles.


photo: Olivander