Is it just me or does the world seem to be filled with stalker-types all of a sudden? No, I'm not (necessarily) talking about the celebrity-stalkers, those who have never met their prey, who are simply deranged and delusional. I'm talking about people we meet, possibly even like, and then can't get rid of. And most of the women I know have had one!
My first experience with this sort of nuttiness cannot technically be called a stalker; he's just wacky in that same sort of way. I met him when I was visiting New Orleans and some friends and I wandered into an Oriental rug shop that it turned out he owned. He was friendly - and gorgeous - and we all had a nice chat that afternoon. Well, the friend who lived there returned to the store and went out with him a few times. And, for some reason that I still can't fathom, gave him my phone number. I lived six hours away but he began calling me. He seemed nice enough, though I didn't understand why he was calling, so we'd chat when he reached me. And then I moved to NYC. He got my number from my parents and kept calling. Okay. No big deal. When I moved again - and again - he kept calling them for my number (no reason for me to tell them not to give it to him, right?). Well, finally, he says he's coming to NY on business and wants to take me to dinner. He shows up at my apartment on the appointed evening, looks around at my tiny studio in disgust, and tells me that a moving van will show up the next day to load all my belongings, we'll drive to New Orleans the following day where I'll move in with him and manage a dress shop he's buying. Needless to say, I died laughing! How hilarious, right? Only ... he wasn't joking!
Since he realized that in America you can't just order women to do things like this (he's from Pakistan), he spent the rest of the evening trying to convince me that this was a great idea. My favorite argument was that, since we weren't going to marry, only live together, I wouldn't have to convert to Islam! I suppose I should have just shoved him out the door, rather than head off to dinner with him, but think of what an amusing conversation I would have missed. He left - alone - two days later and I never heard from him again.
The creepiest example for me is my "British stalker". We met when my parents and I were taking a train into Howarth (a village in England's Yorkshire). The train went exactly five miles and only ran on weekends and he was a conductor. On Monday, when we were trying to return to London, and realized that the train wouldn't run again until the following Saturday, we ran into him and he guided us to the necessary bus. We had some extra time, so my father asked him to join us for fish and chips, then, with his usual annoying Southern friendliness, suggested that the BS and I exchange addresses and become pen pals.
I didn't mind writing back and forth with him, but then he came to visit. He stayed for a week in my tiny NY apartment that I shared with a roommate - and mentioned that he could easily stay a second week. I found that unacceptable! For starters (besides the tiny apartment, the roommate) he didn't talk! He was the proverbial man of few words, all the while looking at me expectantly to carry on an entire conversation. It also became clear that he had come to America with the idea of sweeping me (wordlessly, apparently) off my feet and eventually marrying me. (I had a boyfriend. He was no help. He met my BS once, sensed zero threat, and disappeared for the rest of the visit.)
This was no big deal in the grand scheme of things, but then he came to America again. With no notice. (And this wasn't someone who had money to burn on international flights. Or even international calls, back when even basic long distance was expensive.) When he called to say he was in town and wanted to get together, I explained that I was in the middle of law school finals and socializing wasn't really on my agenda. His response? To tell me that he would be in his hotel room, waiting for me to call him, hoping I could find time to see him. Really?? He came to America to sit in a hotel room waiting for me to call??
He'd always sent roses with some frequency, and now I refused them when they came. I screened my calls and refused to pick up when he spoke. Then I moved and left no forwarding address.
Skip about ten years and I get a call at work, then another at home, from my BS, asking if I were "the" woman he'd once known. Said he'd been using the British and American Embassies to track me down!! Creepy? I think so! Of course, I lied through my teeth and told him that no, I was NOT that woman, I'd never been to England and I'd never heard of him before. I also told him that if I were that woman, his behavior would frighten me and I suggested he give up his quest. He recently tried to "friend" me on Facebook. Thank goodness for ignore buttons!
I realize how hard it can be to accept that someone isn't interested in you. Just so you know, though, there are clues and I'm here to provide some of them. (Isn't that helpful of me?) When she moves away and doesn't bother to let you know, that's a clue. When she's never - once - called you, though you've called her 50 times, that's a clue. And when she denies having ever even met you, that's a clue. I'm just saying.
No comments:
Post a Comment