It was
one of those things you read about in the "Weird News" sections of a
newspaper. You know, right next to stories about the guy who calls 911 because
McDonalds forgot his fries. Or the man who gets arrested for swinging his penis
in a helicopter motion in public. But this particular weird news story caught
my attention; it was a business that set up fake kidnappings for people who
wanted to experience a kidnapping. And their headquarters were reasonably close
to where I lived. I had to say that my interest was piqued, but mainly because
I was looking for work. Or more specifically, I'm always looking for work.
I've
never had much luck with jobs. Some of that is my fault; in my formative years
I covered myself in tattoos. That by itself isn't a bad thing, but there aren't
many banks that are going to hire someone who has the Slayer logo tattooed on
his neck. In fairness I was 18 when I got that one, and Slayer does in fact
rule. Also, even though I have a college degree, I decided to major in Art
History. That's right, I'm $40,000 in debt and can't get a normal job, but I
can tell you all there is to know about Jasper Johns and Edward Hopper.
On the
other hand, as unsuited as I am for office jobs I was basically made for the
menial jobs no one else wants to do. I stand 6'5, and the last time I checked I
tipped the scales at a svelte 265 lbs. So you could say I have the work ethic
of an ox, if the ox was absolutely terrified of Sallie Mae. I've worked as a
landscaper, construction worker, horse wrangler, and alligator wrestler.
The bad
thing about those types of jobs is that there isn't much stability. Once one
job is done you're basically on your own to find the next one. That's why this
"kidnapping for hire" job sounded so good, it was something I could
probably do well, it might be relatively stable, and at the very least it would
be a job I could do indoors for once. So I decided to find out more about the
business and gave them a call once I got all the details.
When I
called I explained my situation and dimensions I was told to come in for an
interview. I went to the office, which was located in the "beginning stages
of gentrification" part of town. You know, the kind of area where there's
a cash checking place on one side, and a new fancy vegan restaurant on the
other side. When I went inside I was greeted by the owner, who was a guy who
looked like he'd own a "fake kidnapping for hire" business. Sort of
slimy, short, chubby, but not without his charms. His name was Joe Witherspoon,
who had the bright idea for the business they same way most businessmen do: by
noticing there was an untapped niche ready to be exploited. In this case, there
are apparently many, many people who fantasize about being kidnapped. For some
it's sexual, for some it's just a thrill, but whatever the reason they're into
it. However, it's not really something you can bring up in casual conversation.
"Hey
Pete, you know what I can really go for? Being tied up and stuffed in a closet
for a day or two"
"Wow,
you too? Well we can wrap up this conversation once we finish this open-heart
surgery."
Until
now anyone who had these fantasies was basically stuck looking for it online.
But anyone who's ever bought a couch off of craigslist knows that if you set up
something like this online you may not actually get out of the closet once
you're in it. So Joe had the bright idea of setting up kidnappings, with
contracts and everything, so that people knew what they were getting into, who
was doing it, and that it was safe. Sure there are liability wavers to sign,
but hell you have to do that when you get cup of coffee these days practically.
After
the requisite interviews and salary negotiations I was hired. For the first few
jobs I went with another guy, Geoff. He was a shorter, wiry guy with a
mustache. He looked like he should be offering candy to kids, but not a bad guy
once you get to talking with him. All of our jobs went reasonably well;
sometimes we would get access to the client's living space and
"surprise" them at home. Other times we would just abduct them from a
parking lot in the company SUV. Sometimes at "gunpoint", but for most
of the women (and a few men) I could just overpower them on my own. In all
cases the end game was the same, they would end up trussed to a chair in our
basement "hideout". They could be restrained with anything from rope,
tape, handcuffs, zip ties, or whatever the client's preference was. They would
be gagged and blindfolded, again the gags were their chosen preference. While
there they would be smacked around a little bit, if they so chose. Never by me,
but my partner had no problem with it, he actually seemed to enjoy it a little
too much. And we would be told to read from a script that sounded like it came
from a particularly lame episode of Magnum PI. You know, the typical
"You're ours now", "You have no chance of escape",
"Your father better come through with the ransom", etc, etc. We would
keep them there for the requisite amount of time. Some paid for four hours,
some for ten, and in some cases days at a time. Those were the worst because
then you have to decide who exactly is going to take them to use the bathroom.
Touching your nose saying "Not it" only works to a point.
This
was the first job in awhile I actually really enjoyed. I could name my own
hours, it was exciting, and I could catch up on my reading while on the job.
The only bad thing was I had to split whatever money we got with my partner,
and I knew I could do the jobs on my own. So I went to Joe and requested that I
be sent on a job alone for twice the pay. At first he seemed hesitant, but then
he suddenly seemed to perk up. "I'll tell you what," he said "I'll
let you go alone on this next job, but you don't get all of Geoff's share, just
150% of what you normally make"
"Deal"
I said. I thought it would be a good deal for Geoff too since he could probably
handle jobs on his own. So I waited for my next job
As I
rode up to the next job I felt a great deal of nervousness. I chalked it up to
it being my first solo job, and I knew deep down I had nothing to worry about.
The client's place was a nice looking house, probably 2 bedrooms. 216 Mockingbird Lane
was the address. Normally I get a picture of who I'm supposed to get, but this
was a very last minute job request for lots of money. All I knew was that I was
going to be kidnapping a "Tracy Turner". I went to the door and
knocked. No response, even though I was scheduled to be there at 6, and it was
6:05. It happens though, to paraphrase an old saying "Some people would be
late to their own kidnapping." Since there was no answer, I tried the door
and it was unlocked. Good, I was getting cold.... and hungry. I went inside and
waited in the dark, eating a sandwich I made, and looked out the window for
what turned out to be 20 minutes. It was then the client finally started
walking up the walkway. She was cute, probably 5'3, petite, brunette,
mid-to-late 20s. Dressed smartly, if you're into that sort of detail. I waited
as she came in and as she took her coat off I sprang into action
I put
my hand over her mouth, and due to our difference in size my hand seemed to
cover half her face. She started struggling violently, and hey we don’t argue
if that’s how they want to do it. "Don't fucking move" I tried to
say. Though the "move" ended up sounding more like
"moohoooooff" because she elbowed me violently in the stomach. Not
sure if that was intentional or just a lucky blow, but it worked. I let her go
and she starting running away. However, thinking quickly I was able to trip her
up with her own coat and corralled her again. She yelled a little bit, which
made me nervous, but apparently no one heard since I was able to secure her
hands behind her back with the handcuffs I brought. I then proceeded to stuff
her mouth with a cloth I had in my pocket, and put duct tape over her mouth.
She was REALLY struggling, which was odd because well.... there was no chance I
wasn't going to be able to whatever I wanted. But hey, the customer is always
right. I tied her legs with more duct tape, and put some over her eyes. Once I
had her secure I went to get the SUV. Man, she yelled (or tried to through the
duct tape) and struggled more than anyone I'd ever experienced. The whole way
to the hideout she was kicking and carrying on in the back, which meant I had
to turn up the radio. Unfortunately the only stations available were an NPR
pledge drive and a Christian Reggae station. Halfway to the hideout I couldn't
figure out which of the three options was the worst to listen to.
Once we
got to the hideout I carried her from the SUV in the garage to the basement,
again with her kicking and attempting to scream like mad. I put her on the
company chair, and secured her to it with even more duct tape. Hey, it's on the
invoice I do what the invoice says. She finally was settled, though still
feisty as hell. So I said the requisite "Welcome to your new home"
off of the index card, and I sat down to read the latest book I was starting: a
book of O Henry short stories. I sat reading and uttering pre-written threats
and taunts for about an hour, while the client mewed and struggled in the
background. I really thought it weird that she was still struggling so much,
when I had a terrible thought. I took my cell-phone out and went outside and
gave Joe a call. "Hey Joe, the address for the client I was supposed to
pick up tonight. You said Tracy Turner, right?" Joe, reasonably irritated
since it was now close to midnight answered "Yes, did you get him?"
Oooooh
shit.
