Safety Theory

I recently discovered that I have a theory of personal safety, which I have dubbed “Safety Theory” for the purposes of this post. It's not the most elaborate theory, nor does it cover most aspects of personal safety. Only one way to remain safe while walking home, by yourself, at night.

I went out to the Euclid Tavern the other night with a couple friends, and drank free beer purchased by absently chivalrous first-year law students (that, however, is a story for another time). As you may know, this particular bar is on the other side of the river from my apartment, so there is a twenty five minute light-rail ride involved when arriving and when going home. This is not a foreign experience for me; it's an adventure I've taken many times, day and night, not the least of which includes getting myself to my last two semesters at Case Western.

So, here's the theory:

Eminent murder can be avoided for at least fifteen minutes, if you're careful. Late-night hyper vigilance involves keeping your eye on everyone near you, approaching you, and walking away from you. You eye them and judge them, to determine whether or not they pose a direct threat. It is definitely necessary. If a murderer is going to try and murder you (or other-doer is trying to do other bad things to you), and you have been careful and noticed early, there is probably at least a fifteen minute window, during which you can avoid, hide, or run into someone's house.

But that in itself is not enough. There's a part two to my theory:

Always have someone on the phone with you that knows exactly where you are. For me, it's usually my mom or Deb, because I don't talk to them enough anyway, and this always provides a wonderful dual opportunity. Making this phone call means that during the fifteen minute window where murder can be delayed, the person you were speaking to on the phone can call the police, and hopefully have them arrive within fifteen minutes to save you.

This theory, like many theories, only exists because it hasn't yet been proven wrong. I have survived many late night walks underneath the poorly lit bridge at the E 120^th Street Rapid Stop and up the stairs to the poorly lit platform where the train picks you up. I always have someone on the phone, and I always tell them where I am. Who knows if the person on the other end would be fast or articulate enough to convey such an important message to the proper authorities before the murder (or other bad thing) occurs. Or if it the murderer is faster than average and it only takes five minutes.

But like many theorists, I like my theory and I'm sticking to it. So maybe one of these dark and lonely nights, Dear Reader, I will call you up and let you know precisely where I am, and you will help me get home in one piece (instead of lots and lots of little pieces).