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anna

If that chick don't wanna know, forget her

by anna at 06:52 PM on January 12, 2005

Seems like every celebrity has a stalker. It's almost like a badge of honor or a rite of passage for them. But us ordinary folks hardly ever get stalked. However, there are exceptions. I should know. I was a stalking victim for years.

It's a strange and lonely time when you come home from college for the summer. Lots of people stay at their schools, some have left town permanently and those who stayed behind have got their own thing going on. You aren't a part of the scene. Bored, I decided to get a haircut. Right off the bat I sensed something was amiss. The stylist was way too chatty, almost flirty. She kept rubbing up against me and fussing over every strand of hair.

She wasn't much to look at but friendly or so it seemed. And I was a sucker for friendly. We wound up dating for a few months. The relationship never went well because I liked her little sister better. I'd tell the sister that she could do better than her shiftless loser of a boyfriend. That would piss stalker chick off. So we broke it off. End of story.

Not. My college roommate Roger had a girlfriend who remained local. She would come to visit and he'd throw his college girlfriend out. Before long, stalker chick had suddenly made friends with his gal and started accompanying her on these visits. This seemed odd as they never knew each other before. We hooked up once during that time. Before I knew it she'd moved 300 miles and moved into the apartment upstairs, which was occupied by my other roommate's sometime girlfriend. It was a topsy-turvy time. Stalker chick claimed to be pregnant and had everyone driving her to medical appointments and tests and everything. But her belly never swelled and eventually she went into this whole drama queen thing about losing the imaginary baby to miscarriage.

After school she continued to pop up. Always with some bizarre scenario that required my immediate intervention. She had this way of interlacing a hook into the tall tale that would be something I wanted out of the deal. It always wound up real convoluted, fruitless but somehow credible. She was being abused by her husband and had self-inflicted bruises to prove it. Some complicated deal involving the imaginary band she supposedly sang for was conspiring against her and so forth. She'd play one party off against another but the end result was always the same: you'd wind up dealing with her for days on end. During which she'd try her damndest to seduce me. After the faux pregnancy scare I never fell for that again but that didn't deter her from trying.

Whenever I'd get a girlfriend she'd ingratiate herself with them and then proceed to poison the relationship if she could. Some of the gals saw through it but others did not. She'd have her mother contact me and tell me all about her woes, all of which were somehow my fault. If I'd just see that she really loved me, everything would be fine in her troubled life.

We dated for a total of 4 months. I dealt with her for at least 6 years hence. Has anyone else ever experienced something like this?

comments (13)

Yup. Then I had to choke the bitch.

by Wayne Brady at January 12, 2005 8:35 PM


She nurtured and perfecteda habit of embarrassing me in front of my friends, but not in any vocal way, so it wasn't an intentional thing... Er. Example: We spent an evening at a friends house and all was great. We'd all had dinner we were having drinks, smoking joints in the garden listening to Oasis. When it came for us tosay goodbye and leave though, my friend, whose house it was, asked my grilfriend to empty her pockets int he most polite way possible. I was dunbstruck byit, and I made a physicalpoint of putting myself between him and her and in state of - and emitting those shocked "tuh!" involuntary exhales people do when they're trying to get their head around something - I asked what was going on. And still in the nicest possible way, he was a good guy, he simply said that he'd seen her pocketing various items as the night had worn on.

"Have you?" Says I to her.

"No." Says she.

"She hasn't, you're mistaken." Says I to him. So if there isn't a problem, and she hasn't, he basically says, then she won't have a problem emptying her pockets. He'll apologise if he's wrong, he suggests. Okay, that's reasonable, but the apology had better be a good one, I say. And then I ask her to empty her pockets. Shedidn't want to but after thelosing my backup she had to, and then for thenext fewminutes I was privvy to the sensations of facial burning as she whipped out a list of thestrangestitems one could possibly hope to steal. This is no joke (My face is burning remembering it. I was so embarrassed!):

A tube of the new clear blue Colgate tooth paste from her trip to the bathroom.
A novelty lighter that was used to burn our resin.
A pocket knife! Stolen from a drawer in my friends kitchen.
And the item he had seen her pocket... A statuette of a boxer dog from the living room.

Guess who was doing the apologising! And guess who wasn't even remotely phased by having been caught red handed! My friend laughed at it off as we left, shaking his head and looking at me like: "You unlucky bastard!" While offering little nods of: She'snutts mate. In my girlfriends direction.

---

Yes! I was friends with my stalker all my life, up to the age of 22, and it became a thing to talk about amongst other friends of how we'd, she and I, would someday end up together. And we did, when I was eighteen, we 'dated' - that word doesn't exist here except on television and in magazines we generally say 'went out [with each other]' for some reason - for about eight months but mmmmyyy God what an eight months! I loved her, yay, (Still do in a way) and though I had little trouble telling her this throughout, and strove to be 'the guy' in her life, I decided out of the blue, at some stage I don't recall, that I didn't want to be with her any more. I had visions of myself on a cheap holiday on some crappy British seaside resort, windy and grey days, walking with her on the shit ridden beach with my kids screeching and running around as we walked hand in hand.

*shiver*

Anyway, in a cruel and unthinking shit-storm I broke it off in a classic asshole way, and at the same time completely rendered any friendship we'd had void, it wasn't just my shitty vision, which scared me to no end at the time I gotta say, but it was things about her that really made me double take. [I just spent fifteen minutes explaining the crazy spectrum of reasons I broke it off but it was beginning to look like a novella. So I'll skip it. But if you could just read the one story, which makes me cringe, you'd understand something about her and about my reasons, and they are justified. To an extent.]

Anyway, in the months after we split I met a gorgeous lass named Emmaline, "Emma Emmaliiiiiiine Emmaline." And I started 'dating' her. This is when the stalking began. At first it wasn't bad, and I didn't identify it as stalking, I thought 'that crazy thief chick' (As explained in great detail in a segment of text lost to the void due to length) was just trying to re-establish our friendship, and happy with my new partner, I was happy to do so. But she started turning up at my flat at strange hours, to ask for a light for a cigarette, stupid ridiculous reasons for knocking on my door. I actually started to get anxious to the point of being sick about bumping in to her. One instance that springs to mind is feeling sick while playing cards with a bunch of mates. And as a joke, pointing out that the feeling was the same one I got whenever my ex was around, one of my friends suggested she might be close by. All the 'Oooh!' and 'Sccaaarrrrrryy!' type jibes started and then one of my friends got up to look out of the window, (as a joke!) to say, "She's out there! Ooo," And the like. But after saying something like that, he did a double take and actually announced that: "I'm not even fucking joking, she IS out there mate." In less than a second the window was filled with heads as we all peered out, and there she was, standing in the car park near the foliage in the centre, staring up at us all. When I swallowed my anxious fear and opened the window to ask what she wanted, she said: "I need to know what time it is, do you have the time?" I asked how long she'd been there and she said she didn't know.

My experience with her stalking me spans an entire year, it made Emmaline think twice about the hassle on more than one occasion, (she ended up cheating on my ass anyway) and the stalking screwed me up in more ways than I care to name. I remember her (The stalker) crying her eyes out that same night she wanted 'the time' and after I'd gone down to try and talk some sense into her, but I was such a fecking dolt back then, sitting next to her, I didn't realise she was crying until after about five minutes when I looked at her. She was a complete wreck. In the months that we'd had a relationship I'd convinced her that it was a relationship that would last, with all my ‘doing what you’re supposed to be doing and saying what you’re supposed to be saying when you’re in love with somebody’ and it'd screwed her up big time.

I’m pleased to say she now has three kids and a great guy named Steve who, according to all reports loves her to bits. I seem to get updates on her life from all those friends who always thought she and I would be together. Stalking is a by-product of love and loneliness. We're all capable of it, just some of us are better at keeping ourselves from doing not stupid, but regrettable things.

Damn, too early in the morning to be remembering this stuff.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at January 13, 2005 3:35 AM


lol... Sorry folks, that is long eh! But with the bit I removed this was bordering on 7000 words, lol. Me thinks I have some history issues I need to deal with. *sigh*

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at January 13, 2005 3:37 AM


Hmm... seems a little bit of the 'bit' I removed survived at the top of the comment, I should really preview before I post... *sings* "Am all shook up. Hah."

Twas supposed to start from "Yes! I was friends with.." Ah well. Apple-ogies, as the Baron would say.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at January 13, 2005 3:39 AM


If you have the power, feel free to delete the upper most segment of zee comment, and to delete all the lil 'fixated?' posts preceding it. lol

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at January 13, 2005 3:49 AM


As well you should Wayne. Crimson, that was the best part. It reminded me that my stalker was also a bit of a kleptomaniac. Just little things. She would always say that it was just keepsakes she wanted. And yours sounds a lot like mine, always turning up with some outlandish excuse to linger.

by Anna at January 13, 2005 7:46 AM


Ever since I wrote this these awful memories have come flooding back. She called me kiddo. Her favorite song was Pat Benatar's Hit Me with Your Best Shot. She fucked my best friend and gave him crabs.

by Anna at January 13, 2005 6:05 PM


I was once a 'stalker' myself. Sad and Neurosis driven at a critical age for schizophrenic episode in college undergrad...

I'm sorry to hear that you were victim, Anna. I was a MASTER STALKER. Get THIS: I spoke ONCE, just ONCE, with this little jewish girl, and then stalked her via emails, and in a blitz a few years after college, I called her childhood HOME and sent flowers and a teddy bear. Oh YEAH, that was the Rockbottom. Seriously, she must have uttered 'one to three' syllables to me in my entirety, and I latched on like hellfire missiles from an apache copter...

Stalkers have to hit ROCKBOTTOM before they stop. You learn more from your accidents than anything that you can ever learn at school.... don't forget your... second wind...

by LOCKHEED at January 13, 2005 7:31 PM


Completely on another limb from the stalker limb, I immediately wanted to post about the fact that you liked her sister better than you liked her. In the states, there are several unwritten rules involving who you can and cannot date. Friends of exes=no. currents of friends=no. Siblings of currents or exes=no. None of those rules exist here, and I've fallen into the trap of dating/sleeping with the sibling of an ex. And the ex doesn't seem to care all that much--- almost hits on me more for it. Crazy Nicaragua. And crazy Nicaraguans.

by Leaffin at January 13, 2005 9:02 PM


Wow, ECG NCO, maybe we should just get you to write for us too.

PS, I decided to not delete the other comments; I like history. :)

by snaggle at January 14, 2005 1:16 AM


I think a lot of girls get off on snagging their sister's dude. This girl's sister was a screamer, and she later confessed that a lot of that was aimed at me. Another pair I knew had a similar dynamic going on. The one was real glitzy and glamorous but the other delivered the goods, so to speak.

by Anna at January 14, 2005 7:49 AM


Snaggles:- "Wow, ECG NCO, maybe we should just get you to write for us too."

Yeah sorry about that. lol. I could have just said: "Yes I can relate Anna, I have experienced something similar, not good is it."

That is a comment eh.

lol... Hey it was early morning and the memories were burning bright as I read Anna's post. Been thinking about it since too, and for the most part I just remember being a bit of a prick back then. Heh heh. :)

by E at January 14, 2005 8:33 AM


I like "E". Maybe we've finally found an un-unwieldly way to shorten that name. Like I used to call Douche Nation Do, like the Heaven's Gate nut. Oh wait, that was someone else.

Is wieldly a word? It doesn't look right somehow.

by Anna at January 14, 2005 6:10 PM


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