What Gives You The Creeps . . .

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blunthead

Well-Known Member
Aug 2, 2006
80,755
195,461
Atlanta GA
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Neesy

#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
May 24, 2012
61,289
239,271
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
Not that many things can scare me but one of them is being trapped in small spaces like an elevator or w/e. Another one is paranormal things like evil ghosts do too.
That would freak me out, too - the being trapped in an elevator scenario - you would have no food or water and what happens if you have to go to the bathroom? Yikes! :a11:
 

Grandpa

Well-Known Member
Mar 2, 2014
9,724
53,642
Colorado
I don't know if it qualifies as "the creeps," but in my younger days, when we lived in Southern California, we went to the beach one day. I think it was around Encinitas.

I was an okay swimmer, just okay, and I liked to body-surf in the Pacific. My wife stayed on the beach, and I swam out a ways to catch some waves back and just enjoy the water. But I swam out past the swells that would bring me in and decided to return a little bit, back toward the beach.

I looked up, and the beach was a little farther away. Huh. I kept on swimming back in. I looked up, and the beach was a little farther away yet. Hm.

I started thinking about riptides, because it seemed like I was maybe in one. And I was starting to tire a little bit. I resolved to swim parallel to the beach to get out of the apparent riptide zone that I was in.

I swam for a while, got more tired, looked up, and I didn't seem to have gone very far. And the beach was now still farther away.

I flipped over on my back to rest for a bit, and maybe the waves would carry me back as I floated. But the little crests would break over my face, and I wasn't resting much. After a few minutes of this discomfort, I flipped over again to tread water. And, yes, the beach was a little farther away.

I was now very tired. I just took a breath and went underwater, feet first, to find the bottom and maybe push off in the direction of the beach and pogo my way back in. But my feet didn't touch, and I swam back to the surface, more fatigued than ever now.

It was at this point that I seriously began to consider that I was going to drown. I didn't have all that much time left before my strength would be depleted. I actually started to think about my life, what it had been like, my mind's eye seeing people from my past.

Then I saw a curly-headed blonde guy, armpit-deep in the water, wading out in my direction. "Do you need help?" he yelled.

"Yes," I gasped, and he threw a float out to me with a tether. I swam to it wearily, muscles protesting, and me telling them to shut the hell up. I grabbed the float, and he pulled me to the beach. About thigh deep, I ditched the float just out of dignity, stood and waded, and followed him to his Jeep that was stopped on the sand next to the water. He asked me if I'd mind signing an acknowledgment that he'd helped me out, as he had to cover several beaches because the lifeguards were short on funding and understaffed, and it helped to justify their existence. I signed it. At that point, if he'd asked me to, I would've included him in my will.

The wife came up and asked me if I was okay. She'd been watching me in the water, but up until the time the lifeguard started pulling me in, she'd had no idea that I was in trouble. To her, I was just doing my usual goofing around.

Now, what if that lifeguard had been delayed on another beach for 10 minutes? Or if he'd come through our beach 10 minutes earlier and just moved on? That's the part that makes me uneasy, that I don't care to think about all that much. Life, or not, is so often simply a matter of timing.
 

Neesy

#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
May 24, 2012
61,289
239,271
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
I don't know if it qualifies as "the creeps," but in my younger days, when we lived in Southern California, we went to the beach one day. I think it was around Encinitas.

I was an okay swimmer, just okay, and I liked to body-surf in the Pacific. My wife stayed on the beach, and I swam out a ways to catch some waves back and just enjoy the water. But I swam out past the swells that would bring me in and decided to return a little bit, back toward the beach.

I looked up, and the beach was a little farther away. Huh. I kept on swimming back in. I looked up, and the beach was a little farther away yet. Hm.

I started thinking about riptides, because it seemed like I was maybe in one. And I was starting to tire a little bit. I resolved to swim parallel to the beach to get out of the apparent riptide zone that I was in.

I swam for a while, got more tired, looked up, and I didn't seem to have gone very far. And the beach was now still farther away.

I flipped over on my back to rest for a bit, and maybe the waves would carry me back as I floated. But the little crests would break over my face, and I wasn't resting much. After a few minutes of this discomfort, I flipped over again to tread water. And, yes, the beach was a little farther away.

I was now very tired. I just took a breath and went underwater, feet first, to find the bottom and maybe push off in the direction of the beach and pogo my way back in. But my feet didn't touch, and I swam back to the surface, more fatigued than ever now.

It was at this point that I seriously began to consider that I was going to drown. I didn't have all that much time left before my strength would be depleted. I actually started to think about my life, what it had been like, my mind's eye seeing people from my past.

Then I saw a curly-headed blonde guy, armpit-deep in the water, wading out in my direction. "Do you need help?" he yelled.

"Yes," I gasped, and he threw a float out to me with a tether. I swam to it wearily, muscles protesting, and me telling them to shut the hell up. I grabbed the float, and he pulled me to the beach. About thigh deep, I ditched the float just out of dignity, stood and waded, and followed him to his Jeep that was stopped on the sand next to the water. He asked me if I'd mind signing an acknowledgment that he'd helped me out, as he had to cover several beaches because the lifeguards were short on funding and understaffed, and it helped to justify their existence. I signed it. At that point, if he'd asked me to, I would've included him in my will.

The wife came up and asked me if I was okay. She'd been watching me in the water, but up until the time the lifeguard started pulling me in, she'd had no idea that I was in trouble. To her, I was just doing my usual goofing around.

Now, what if that lifeguard had been delayed on another beach for 10 minutes? Or if he'd come through our beach 10 minutes earlier and just moved on? That's the part that makes me uneasy, that I don't care to think about all that much. Life, or not, is so often simply a matter of timing.
I am glad you got saved and lived to tell us all this tale Grandpa!