The story of how I got kidnapped by a porn producer on a wheelchair

I’ve told that story so many times by now and yet I’m not sure what to begin with.

When I went to Charlottesville, VA and checked CouchSurfing for Albuquerque I decided not to go to Albuquerque due to the possibility of running a total freak and getting stuck with them for longer (and I don’t mean a cool freak, I mean just a crazy person).

Still Albuquerque was on my way from Santa Fe, NM to Flagstaff, AZ (for the I-40’s sake…)

I’ve caught a funny businessman/priest from Santa Fe to North Albuquerque, then waited for a friend of his to give me a lift (he called her and asked to come in order to tell me about playing the music and staying in the US on a visa connected to any musical actions). After she brought me to South Albuquerque I realized it was the worst spot she could have bring me to. So I had to spend some time there but of course there was some one pick me up even from there – I’m a nice looking girl 🙂

After they left me on this interchange the troubles began. No water, no shade, getting late after all the waiting (it was around 2 pm already and still far from Flagstaff). No cars going towards my direction. Literally none of those. It happens, you know, though it can be ironical sometimes…

Finally a car! I stick my thumb out and I can see it slow down but not really stop. On the very end of the entrance it stops and the guy yells ‘where are you going?!’ so I start running towards him to check how weird or scatchy he is before I tell him where I am going.

I bend over to talk with him and see this funny looking dude with passion (but what for?) in his eyes, a bit afraid himself. A wheelchair sign on the glass to. And a wheelchair on the back seat.

‘Flagstaff, AZ’ I say ‘and you?’
‘LA.’
‘Guess that’s the right way’ I say.
‘Well, yes, but I have to warn you that I’m not in a hurry and I’m gonna stop how often I want to and I’m gonna take pictures of rocks and shit if I want to, is it fine?’
‘It’s perfect!’ I say enthusiasticaly ‘Arizona is about the views, isn’t it?’

So we go down to the desert and the talk is nice and I feel comfortable and safe even though he said before he was a porn producer (I warned him not to start with me and even if he did, I would just leave running, it’d take him some time to put all the wheelchair together) and suddenly he asks why I am going there.

‘To see the Grand Canyon, only for that’ I say.
‘Well, I have never seen the Canyon myself. And I am having fun with you. What about if you cancell on your host and we go the Canyon together, after that I’ll give you a ride to LA as you said you were going there too, huh?’

I agreed.

So it is extremely hot, sun coming down on us, we enter Arizona. As he said before we stop by every pretty rock, flower, piece of pavement, Native American (sorry, I call them Indians – not because I dislike them or mistake for the actual Indians – it’s just because of the Polish name, which btw. is different than for an Indian) tipi, and any other crap we can find.

Suddenly (and I mean suddenly, it was hot and bright and just in a second…) a thunder and rain – the heaviest rain I have ever seen in my life. Welcome to Arizona (silent but strong word ‘bitches’ in the end)!

We just can’t drive, we can’t see, we think we’ll be dead. I scream, he yells, he stops, I’m like ‘dude, it’s metal, get out, don’t repeat after the stupid’, we go, it rains even more, I’m afraid, I almost cry, we can see the end somewhere in the distance but it follows us and all the lightnings between the cars, so close to us! Suddenly that’s it, the sun’s up again, the day’s like every day in Arizona. We remain silent for almost 10 minutes and then sigh heavily at the same moment.

We decided to stay in a hotel in Flagstaff for the night. Of course separate beds and him being nice and respecting that I am emotionally engaged. It was fine and furthermore the hotel was on the Route 66.

The next day we hit the road deciding to go to Skywalk instead of the south side of the Canyon because… it is Skywalk, you know?
After we ate breakfast at Denny’s (I actually do like their food, sorry guys. I love healthy nutriotion, vegetarian cuisine and non-chain restaurant run by normal people who believe in something… but I also love Denny’s), we took I-40 West.

‘Hey, check it out, Route 66! Let’s take it!’ I yell suddenly.
‘No, we won’t, it’s gonna take ages!’ goes Pablo.
‘Heeeeeeeey’ Shrek-cateyes of mine start to show ‘but it’s Route 66!’ and I sing the song.
‘We’ve already passed it, dude! If we see the sign again, we’re gonna take it, alright?’
‘Alright’ says me sure it’s never gonna happen – I mean those are just the historial parts, it’s not like an actual road, right? – and this was how we didn’t take Route 66 from Route 64 North to Cataract Lake.

Instead we took the much longer part: Seligman to Kingman.

Seligman itself was this funny touristy city pretending to be still in the 50’s. It looked something like that:

But there were also less touristy (more interesting) parts of the city:

The whole Route 66 was just gorgeous… Take a look at how beautiful is was!

So we’re going down the road and having fun. Singing, smokin’, stopping by every weird stuff. Like that gas station. It wasn’t even a city. I don’t know how was it called but I think it was close to Gran Canyon Caverns… not sure though. It looked like this:

And I took my absolutely favourite picture there!

Anyway, back to the story.
We’re going down the road having fun. And suddenly Pablo goes like ‘oooh, I feel so bad, I just have to go to see a doctor’
‘Okay, Kingman’s here, would you like to stay for the night?’ I ask.
‘No, I have to go to see my doctor in Las Vegas’.
‘I am NOT going to Las Vegas’ I say.
‘You have to go with me’ says Pablo ‘you know I fell down of my wheelchair, I gotta see my doctor and cannot stay in Kingman – do they even have doctors here?’
‘Dude I don’t know… I mean they have an airport, right? If there’s an airport there must be a doctor, isn’t it true?’
‘But I do need my doctor’

So we’re going to Las Vegas. An idea I hate so much. I know it’s not a place for me but what can I do…

So we go to Las Vegas, check in that casino hotel by the charming name of ‘Hooters’ and we go to the stripe.

Pablo changes. Suddenly he checks if I am walking by his wheelchair, he waits for me in front of the toilet, he comments with hatery every guy looking at my breast or something (hey, I mean… he’s a porn producer, what’s his problem with people staring at my boobs?!). I feel really uncomfortable, he is extremely overprotective (and says things like ‘it’s Las Vegas, let’s get married). Especially that he cannot understand my casino-disgust-problem. It’s not about the casino, it’s about me. I just shouldn’t be there.

We go to sleep (seperate beds, uff) and wake up in the morning so he can call his doctor and see if he can have an appointment the same day. I bend over looking for something in my backpack and he says:

‘Good morning, you just gave me a boner’

What?!

I give him 15 minutes to wake up properly and start the talk: it wasn’t the deal, what the fuck you crazy person, I’m not going to Skywalk with you, right after the doctors you drive me to LA, understood?

He agrees. ‘Just first I’m gonna see my dealer’

So we go to that house in the middle of nothing, almost out of Las Vegas and we spend there the whole day. Smoking, drinking coffee, talking… I want to know if he’s gonna drive me, he has fun. We check the car the neighbor is working on, we chat about shit, the time runs, I need to get to LA, I have already let know that guy I don’t know, Ryan, that I am comming. I text Tyler, my super hot host from Austin, turns out he was in Hooters the same night. SHIT! It’s late and dark. I won’t catch a ride no matter how hard I try.

‘Hey, so the thing is I’m not gonna drive you anywhere’ Pablo says ‘not today’.
‘What?!’
‘Yes, I think I’m gonna stay in Las Vegas for a couple of, maybe three days, then go to Skywalk and Death Valley and blah blah blah and then maybe to LA. You can join me if you want to!’
‘I can join you? You promised you’d drive me to LA today!’ I yell… well, not really yell, it’s more of a ‘say’ but with an exclamation mark.
‘No, not today. But if you want to, you can stay here for a few days with me and then we can go see all those things, after that maybe I’m gonna drive you to LA’
‘No way!’
‘Okay, then just do whatever you want to, I am staying’.

Yessss… like I had so many things I could do. It was late, dark, desert, Nevada. DAMN!
Obviously – I could go any time and he didn’t even touch me (as I was the stronger) but the sucker did it on purpose so as to give me no way of escaping. I mean… it is obvious I wouldn’t catch a lift at the time he told me he wouldn’t drive me to anywhere today…

Fortunately he’s drug dealer was sooo nice and sweet. When Pablo did not care (I don’t know what was it, he just left to somewhere) I asked Drew crying ‘heeeey, I don’t want to be heeeeeeere, please, drive me to my last Vegas-LA bus!’ and he agreed.

Having a little bit of a crash on me he drove me to the bus, waited with me and handled a lot of weed to me saying ‘take it, you cannot go to California empty-handed’.

I escaped.

Pablo called and texted me many times but I never answered and just blocked his number.
Crazy people happen.
So… here’s to all of the crazy people: Everything is… Pablo!