When I was eleven, a Chinese man in his late thirties tried to kidnap me in a Beijing parking lot.

We'd all been bunched up together as one tight familial unit, off to lunch with an aunt I'd never met before in some upscale restaurant that probably only served parts of animals I'd previously deemed inedible. For this reason I straggled behind. It was August, and I remember wearing this crinkly sort of black dress for the occasion that, because I was so thin at the time, gave me the appearance of a crow with skinny stick legs. Head tucked sullenly down. Glaring eyes under bushy Asian eyebrows. I am fairly sure that the sex appeal in this image is equivalent to that of walking toothpick.

(Unless of course, your name is Humbert Humbert.)

The sky was composed a single sheet of grey (because in Beijing, there is no such thing as a blue sky) that reflected off the windshields of cars, and I was sort of boredly looking around when I saw this ponytailed guy on a motorcycle staring at me.

It was a really creepy stare: you know, the look you give to the fish in restaurant aquariums who you will subsequently eat for dinner. Or, I guess, to awkward looking eleven-year-old girls. Because they're pretty much the same thing.

(Actually if you think about it, they really are.)

"Hey there little girl," he called, "Want to take a ride on my motorcycle?"

Thought 1: Wow, this has got to be the creepiest guy I have ever seen in my life.

Thought 2: But - motorcycle. I kind of want to - I mean motorcycles are cool - ummm...

So I started walking forward. When I was maybe 5 feet from this guy, my mother finally realized that leaving her children unattended was maybe a bad idea and called out, "Laura?"

Instantly, I though of all the kidnapper stories my parents had drilled into my head as a little kid. The image of a fat man in a white kidnapper van offering candy to naive little girls sprang to mind. But instead of feeling afraid like I should have, all that was running through my head was: the hell? I nearly fell for that? Idiot. Stupid.

I turned my back and ran away.

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A. Note: This really happened.

And to this day, I have no idea what this guy's intentions were. I wasn't a particularly pretty child and therefore wouldn't grow up to be an attractive prostitute, my organs were too immature to be harvested, and I probably didn't taste good.

He also probably didn't really want to just give me a motorcycle ride. Unless he did, in which case: what the fuck, man.

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I seriously hope no other little girls were as dumb as I was that day.

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One last thing: I WILL RETURN ALL REVIEWS. So seriously, just leave me one.