I had been talking to this particular gentleman on and off for about a year. He recently popped back up and asked me to drinks. I thought why not. We did have to rain check once, but we met the next day.
I walk into the bar we’ve agreed to meet at downtown. It’s a English pub with a rooftop, on a busy street close to the river. I look around for my date, I don’t see him. I decided to find seats at the bar for us. It’s right after work during the week. The bar is filled with a wide variety of people who needed a drink.
The bar itself is pretty full. I find possible seats for us. Then a gentleman leans back from his bar stool and says, “Hey, it’s so great you could meet me.”
Pause for explanation, this guy who just said it’s great you could meet me is literally nothing like the photos in his profile. I’m expecting a 6’2, athletic, dark haired, olive skinned Greek god. But the man in front of me is as follows, 5’9, NEVER worked out a day in his life, he actually does have dark hair with a little grey, and Latino. Where did my Greek god go to? Did he hop on his Pegasus and leave without me? Come back please!!
Oh, did I forget to mention that I know the gentleman in front of me. I met him originally thru a lawyer I was going out with. He also went out with a friend of mine…
I walk over and give him a hesitant hi. He noticed my hesitation. He then fessed up, and informed me that he’s been stalking me thru multiple dating sites and Facebook. That he didn’t put an actual picture of himself up obviously, but a picture of a friend. Because he thought if I knew who he really was that I would dash his stalking hopes and dreams and turn him down. I know readers, crazy thought me saying no to a stalker.
I watch television, I know what happens to women when they have a crazy stalker! I’m not prepared to enter the witness security program! I dated a U.S. marshal once, but for the sex. Not for protection! I’m thinking I might need to find his phone number. It’s one of those, oh shit moments.
He pops up and offers me his bar stool. He says he can just hover over me. Stalker hovering over me, ummm.. I think not. So, I ask the two gentleman next to us to scooch over. They are incredibly nice and move down so I can sit down without my stalker hovering over me.
I get comfortable, I turn around to face him. He’s still facing the bar instead of me. I ask him if he’s all right? Because he’s not making any eye contact with me. The woman you’ve stalked for months is sitting next to you. You’ve accomplished your crazy stalker goal. But you choose not to look at me, awkward…
I catch the bartender’s eye. I ask him what he has on tap. He asks me for my ID. I’m thrilled! I got ID’ed. I chit chat with the bartender because I’m so happy that he carded me. At this point I’m having more witty banter with the bartender than my date.
I notice that to the left above my date my college basketball team is playing. I start to watch the game. This is bad. Anyone who knows me will tell you if I’m watching the game this is a problem. I start to make conversation. The normal what have you been up to.
This is when he says well I know you’re only looking for potential suitors… I reply yes. He then informs me that he’s moving to Kansas! As in one of the states in the bread basket. As a reminder I live in Georgia! That’s a hell of a lot of states over from Kansas. So, not only has he lied about who he is and stalked me. But he’s not even potential!
I assume he’s found a job. He then informed me that he hasn’t even informed his current firm he’s leaving. He’s moving to Kansas and is going to wing it. I ask him where he’s planning on living. He says his sister’s mother in law suite. I make a joke and ask if it has indoor plumbing (please refer to my preview post very bad evening). He has no idea what I’m talking about. Obviously, he wasn’t a very diligent stalker. He hasn’t even read all of my posts!
We ended up talking about cars. I don’t know how. I tell him about how I flooded my car once (please refer to flooding bunny). At this point I realize that this date is drowning. I lean to the charming bartender and ask him if they have a fries basket? He’d says truffle fries. I tell him yes please. He asks if I’d like another drink. I figure why not.
My date tells him to give him another too. The bartender is in the middle of refilling his vodka soda. As he’s putting in the soda the plastic part of the spray knob comes off. I get sprayed with soda. The bartender is embarrassed and apologizing. I tell him don’t worry and if he wanted me to take off my top all he had to do was ask. He’s flabbergasted. The other bartender and people sitting around are laughing hysterically. I look to my date, he hasn’t even cracked a smile. The bartender has now gotten over his shock. He gives a cheeky reply of, “next time I’ll just ask.”
My fries arrive, there’s a lull in conversation. So, he finally decides to chime into the conversation. He then decides to go the bathroom. While my stalker is away I ask my bartender how many drinks my stalker has had? He replies with before or after I arrived. I think to myself oh damn and I tell the bartender both. He informs me before he had three and after eight. That’s eleven drinks! Oh my god! That’s a lot of liquid encouragement.
Stalker comes back makes not so nice commentary about my truffle fries. I thought excuse you! These truffle fries have been better to me than you have. I go to the restroom. I come back he’s closed out. The bartender asks if I’d like my drink to go. I tell him no I’m good. My stalker says he’ll take it.
What’s half a cider when you’ve had eleven vodka sodas…
He walks me to my car. We are next to my car. It’s that awkward how do I get rid of him by being polite moment. I ask him to please text me when you get home, so I know you got there safe. He replies with, you can make sure I get home safe. I just put clean sheets on the bed.
Pause for inner monologue: Are you fucking shitting me?!? Did this idiot actually just say that out loud? I don’t care if his sheets are 900 thread count Egyptian cotton. This is so not happening. Not to mention he’s eleven drinks in. I can’t believe he’s still standing!
My response, while trying not to laugh. I tell him before I sleep with someone I like to know them a little bit more and goodnight. He replied with, not for long and then walked off.
Moral of the story: 6.6 million people are stalked in one year in the United States.
Beware my readers! Beware!