The Guard, The Girlfriend, and The Good Old Trick

One evening, my girlfriend Sanchita and I were quietly enjoying our usual hideaway in the college campus, doing what lovebirds do best. Out of nowhere, a guard appeared and caught us in an embrace. The guard went from zero to hostile in record time and demanded an explanation.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“Oh, just having a casual chat,” I stammered nervously, trying to downplay the situation.

But the guard wasn’t buying it. “I saw the whole thing. Let me call the captain. We will complain to the dean and have you rusticated!” he threatened, his tone deadly serious as he reached for his walkie-talkie and dialed. My heart sank as I realized he wasn’t bluffing; he actually called the captain.

Then came the kicker. “Here, take the key and take her inside and do what you wanted to do,” he sneered pointing to an old broken shack just behind the spot, his tone dripping with condescension and vulgarity.

Now, I was already sweating bullets, but that vulgar remark was the last straw. In a moment of sheer panic, I pulled out the oldest trick in the book: the “Do you know who my father is?” card. Confidence poured out of me like I was the minister’s long-lost son.

“What did you just say? Do you know who my father is?” I fired back, tapping into my inner VIP.

For a split second, the guard seemed rattled, probably imagining himself in hot water. The tables had now turned.

Sensing fear on his face, I decided to crank it up a notch. “One phone call to my dad, and you’ll be out of a job in a moment!” I blurted. I had nothing to lose, so I had to go all out, knowing that a complaint to the dean by the captain and the guard would mean severe repercussions.

By now, the captain had arrived on the scene, and heard my bold proclamation. He must have sensed that I hailed from a wealthy or influential family.

Realizing things were spiraling out of control, the captain switched to damage control mode. “Sorry, Sir. He didn’t mean any harm. Please, don’t involve your father. This poor guy has a family,” he pleaded.

“Alright, but never utter such vulgarity from your mouth ever again.” I warned the guard, who looked like he’d just been scolded by his grandma.

The guard nodded and briskly exited alongside the captain. They didn’t even bother to ask for our information or IDs, so before things got even weirder or a plot twist hit us, we bolted out of that place.

Sanchita, who had been silently observing the spectacle with wide eyes, finally broke the silence.

“I didn’t know you were such a confident liar. What if they saw through your ‘do you know who my father is‘ stunt and actually reported us to the dean, only to find out your dad’s just a regular Joe?” she quipped.

“Well, you’ve got to cross that bridge when you get there, darling. But for now, let’s focus on finding a new spot to lay low since this one’s officially compromised,” I replied, chuckling as we set off in search of our next hideout.

Reflecting on it now, I can’t help but feel a little guilty about how I handled the situation. After all, the guard was just doing his job. At that moment, fear and panic clouded my judgment and at that young and immature age, I’m not sure if I could have thought of a better way to protect myself in that moment. Nevertheless, youth often comes with lessons learned the hard way.