That’s one way of ending a pleasant evening with a nice guy, I suppose; me being strapped to a bed, and mistaken for another girl, whom I’ve never met. And to think, it all started out, and ended, so well. Oh, well, shit happens. But, all’s well, that ends well, I suppose. But let me tell you; it took me a while to get there.
It all started with me accepting an invitation from a man, whom I met once, for a dinner. I usually don’t, but this guy was so charming, I just couldn’t say ‘no’. He had prepared a very nice three-course meal, and we had a lovely time together, chatting about mutual friends. Towards the end of the meal, he started behaving bit strange, though, checking his watch every few seconds, as if he was in a hurry to get some place.
Suddenly, he rose, went around the table, and stood behind me. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of my seat. He dragged me into a room towards the back of the flat, and pushed me onto a camping-bed. He made me lie on my back, took a couple of straps, and strapped the upper part of my arms to the middle part of the frame and ankles to the corners. I could still lift my hands, but not raise my head, more than a few inches.
I had overcome the initial chock by now, and was getting furious. “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked.
He looked down at me, with kind of a sad look on his face, and said: “The company your father’s working for, are selling things to people they shouldn’t be selling anything at all to. This might be a way of making them stop.”
Despite being so angry I could explode any minute, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Never, in my entire fifteen years of existence on this earth, had I heard something as ridiculous as that! Once I had calmed down enough to speak coherently, I said:”The Company my father works for, manufactures and sells knit-wear! Please tell me; where’s the harm in selling knit–wear to little, old ladies?”
I could see he was getting a bit confused, and could probably have gone on rambling for quite a bit longer, but I decided not to.
“Knit-wear, eh?” he said. He went on by asking if I wasn’t Celine Anderson, and my father wasn’t the CEO of a well known arms-manufacturer.
“No, I’m Celina Anderson, and he’s not!” I replied bitchily, stressing the last letter in my name, because I was getting thoroughly fed up with getting mixed up with her. I had never even met the girl! “He’s a very minor employee of a company you’ve probably never even heard of, but who´s name frequently gets mixed up with that arms-factory, you were talking about.”
“You do understand I don’t believe a word you’re saying, don’t you? I’m going to go ahead with my plan, anyway, just to be on the safe side. Don’t you worry; you just lie there being a good girl ‘n’ all, and we’ll have this mess sorted out, ASAP. I’m just going to make a phone-call or two! Back in a jiffy!”
I could almost feel him patting me on the head. It sounded like he was talking to a small child, for crying out loud!
When he came back, a while later, he was pale in the face. “You were right!” he said, astounded. “You’re not Celine Anderson, after all! I do beg your pardon, for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I’m real sorry this lovely evening ended up the way it did. I’m going to leave you now, but I’ve called the police and told them who, and where, you are.” And with that, he left.
“DUH”, I told the closed door.
The police stormed in a couple of minutes later, pistols at the ready, but by then, the place was empty of people, except me.