Defending My Virtue

Who knew that I would need shoestrings to escape rape? I felt safe on a double date, the “safety in numbers” misnomer. He came on like a ten-armed octopus with suction cup hands. The couple in the back seat were obviously in full accord, based on sounds my ears were recording. Out-manned in size and strength, I searched for a weapon. I found it in the glove box. A single, unattached shoestring serves well as a garrote when applied to the neck of one whose hands are occupied elsewhere. He took me home.