What would your father do if you were kidnapped by Parisian sex traffickers?

[MitzyLeFrouf]

I'm watching Liam Neeson in Taken as he kicks, wallops and murders his way across Paris in pursuit of his abducted daughter? It's made me wonder what my father would do if such a situation arose.

He's an ex-accountant with a dodgy hip so I'm not sure he'd follow the Neeson method of daughter retrieval. He'd be more likely to start the rescue by putting the kettle on, having a cup of tea and checking the weather forecast in Paris. Then he'd have to phone the 67 relatives to inform them of my perilous situation. By the time he got off the phone to my Auntie Mary my virtue would be long lost.

What would your dear old dad do?

My dad would sit down, remove his glasses, put his head in his hands & say "ayayay".

Then he'd ring round various contacts until he found someone who was available to assist him to get to Paris.
Once there, he'd go to the embassy or something & await it all being sorted out (he handily speaks French).
Once it had all been sorted, he'd ask me some totally random question ("what do you think of 'born free' - I don't think lions actually are free") probably while I had my mouth full of food & couldn't answer anyway.
Then we'd see the sights & he'd berate me about my lack of culture.

My Dad would put the remote down and after a moments deep thought, ask my Mum what to do.
Mum would sort it over the phone that night without leaving the house.

Well he died several years ago but don't think he'd have done anything as it would have been too shameful and what would the neighbours say if they found out.
If I had managed to escape no doubt he'd have told me that he'd warned me what would happen if I went to art college (I'm sure human trafficking and starving in garretts came into his objections).
And then told me it wouldn't have happened if I'd become a secretary and joined a hockey club as he wanted me to do.

My dad probably wouldn't do very much except moaning about the state the world has gotten to, and how it wouldn't have happened in his day...
My mum however would have rallied her family (and it's a big one, since she had 13 brothers and sisters, who all proceeded to have 4 or 5 kids, who all... you get the picture!) - 200-odd people from one family descending onto the kidnappers would have me free in no time, the mafia has nothing on us :-)

Mine would say "Well she ought to be happy, she was always a slut" and then start to complain about how my kidnapping had brought shame on him.
For my sister, he'd be phoning every military contact he has, getting together a crack team of specialist hostage rescuers and getting her home.

My DF was fierce. All my friends were terrified of him. Really lovely man, but looked very scary and had a deep menacing voice. The sex traffickers would have been toast. I miss him.

My dad is was Northern Irish security forces, who insisted I learned marshal arts. The traffickers would hand me back and apologise before daddy did track them down 🔫💣☠😂😂😂😂

First he'd water the hanging baskets, feed the birds, walk the dog, then hand the phone to my dmum to sort it out.

Mine would know someone who knew someone who knew the kidnappers. Then he'd get his ex army biker mates and descend on Paris and destroy everyone who may be connected.

My mum would cry and start a bunch of fb memes with the skinniest photo of me she could find. The 1 like = 1 prayer kind.

Dh isn't the quickest off the bat, bless him. By the time he rescued me, I'd be the madam of a chain of brothels and would have forgotten my name already.

Mine would talk it up big about his plans but would in all likelihood just call the police.
Assuming he hasn't fallen asleep in front of the TV.
Or disrupts his bowls schedule.

Dh would revel in the quietness and the fact no one is bothering him.

What would your father do if you were kidnapped by Parisian sex traffickers?www.mumsnet.com/Talk/mumsnet_classics/2380009-What-would-your-father-do-if-you-were-kidnapped-by-Parisian-sex-traffickers

Oops meant to post this on another thread

Well being as the old sod offered to sell me to an Arabian Prince we'd met in London for half a goat(and the arse end at that)until my Mum smacked him round the head really hard I'd expect him to ask the kidnappers for some money.

If it was a real threat it would be completely different,he was in the army and very highly decorated and he used to be a boxer so he'd round up some old mates he served with, a good few were Gurkha's and he'd get my Brothers and Cousins involved(they've all done boxing)and all of them can shoot a gun and he'd ring up my FIL an ex marine and my BF's Husband who is also an ex marine and my DH is an armed Police Officer so I think I'd probably be okay

Although to be fare it could go for the easier option and just set my Mum on them she's a proper Lioness over her DC.

Thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon reading this thread.

DF would probably trade me back for a crop of his highly valued skunk. Then have a pipe, make a curry and play guitar until I was returned.
DSF would drive over to France, have a cooked breakfast and too many drinks on the ferry, drive to nearest pub and get chatting to some guys who would know someone who knew where I was being kept. He'd then get pissed with the kidnappers who'd become his new friends and they'd all sit around telling stories and find out they'd already met in Greece thirty odd years ago.
We'd drive back through Belgium for baccy. Stock up on wine. He may then remember to call DM and let her know I was ok.

I've given it some thought: my DF would put an utterly searing review on Trip Advisor, possibly about Paris as a whole, but only after he'd finished reading back issues of the Guardian, which he describes to DM as "catching up on paperwork". She's not fooled. DM would be concerned about whether I'd ironed my outfit prior to the abduction.

Be preparing to read my account.

If my dad got the call he'd tell them it was just another "jenwen22 moment," and theres been plenty over the years. he'd sit down in the kitchen, pour himself a large whiskey, have ten cigarettes and spend the next hour wondering what to do. My mum would come in from work, he'd then proceed to give her another hour long monologue on the "status" of my kidnapping, what would happen in Scotland if this happened (he's Scottish but we've lived in England my whole life), shout a bit about where mum had put the passports. Mum would shout back while on the phone to my sister and my grandfather; letting them know "what's happening with jenwen22." But if my granny had been alive, she wouldn't have rang her until I was safely home ad she couldn't deal with the phonecalls every 5 seconds...

...finally finding the passports he'd ring round a few family members (in scotland) who would say they'd meet him over there. Then he'd get in the car and realised he hadn't filled up on petrol. An hour later he'd be on a plane creating hell as he sorted it all out. By this time though I'd probably be hooked on heroin and sold on. Bless him. If he had managed to get me back I'd never have heard the end of it, and how if I'd taken ICT in GCSE instead of drama like he told me too, and wore makeup and made an effort with myself, this would never have happened.

My mother would write a strongly worded email, that took her three hours to wright as she needed to edit it to make sure it was suitably barbed.

My DP would totally lose his shit, drop DS off with SIL, call in old aquantences, and people who owed him favours, be on the first plane out there promtely distroying paris and anyone who got in his way.

I know I'm so late to this but...my dad would tell everyone how sad he was that it had happened on fb. He would then wait until he got a specific amount of comments and then he would expand a little on what had happened and tag me in it.
He'd go round to my brothers and call me to him about the fact I had been kidnapped. He'd probably message dh and ask him to 'have a word' with me and then he'd just wait for something to be done so he could fb moan about it.

But in his own head he would be doing some A-Team re-enactment, making a plane/tank etc from a couple of screws and a wooden pallet

Poor Dad has advanced dementia now, but back in the day he would have probably spent a few moments trying to work out how to break it to Mum so she didn't fly off the handle, then called Interpol and explained the situation to them in a terribly rational manner before saying to Mum "This will be a bit of a shock, but it's all in hand and..."

At this very moment, Mum would shriek, grab the phone and call her entire family while packing an overnight bag, then call her best friend from her mobile while shouting "What do you mean? You'd think someone in the parish would have a sawn-off shotgun or two, just get them to leave it in the porch!" My aunts would by this point be variously a) in tears, b) asking her contacts in the tennis club if they 'might know someone helpful', c) insisting she would stay at home and pray for my soul, and d) somehow managing to commandeer a helicopter, an assortment of weapons, some random police officers and a news crew. All of Mum's family would descend into Paris, by which time they would be slagging off the third sister for being impractical and she's not been the same since they moved, there was nothing wrong with that house and...

Meanwhile, Dad would call Interpol again and mildly inform them that further to their earlier conversation, four enraged Irish women were about to arrive in Paris without passports and it was best that they knew about this first. He would then quietly mobilise his own family, get on the Eurostar and decide whether he ought to sort out my predicament first or contain the distinct probability of my Mum's family going mad with shotguns and quite possibly shooting each other in the process.

I have visions of Dad saying "excuse me, I am about to have a very irrational moment", grabbing an AK-47 from Mum and scudding the gang leader over the head with it. He's had three irrational moments in his life, I think. Mum would have run out of ammunition hours previously..

Permanent, that's the best one yet!

My dad would make a series of puns to lighten the situation then eye roll at every suggestion my mum made to resolve it. They would both inevitably end up in Paris but not know what to do when they got there. Probably politely queuing at a French police station whilst mum wants to stop for a cup of tea and a sit down every 5 minutes.