Round Two

Welcome, welcome. Come in, take a seat, take off your bra if you'd like. Today's installment is various bits of dialogue from a couple weeks ago. I did participate in some instances, but only as a means of getting more to write about. Do I feel bad? Nope.

18 July
12:36PM

Sam: Hey I'm going to look at guns...wanna join me?
What I Should Have Said (WISHS): ....(actually, I have no real way to respond to that so my ignorance of the statement was as good as it could be)

12:50PM
Sam: I guess not. Well, do you wanna go eat when I get back?
WISHS: Only if you won't be at the place I'm going to go eat.

7:20PM
Sam: On my way back. Wanna eat at Subway?
WISHS: I do, just not while you're around.

7:24PM
Sam: Guess I will just shut up like you always want.
WISHS: Now you're getting it! And to think, I thought you didn't have any sort of deductive reasoning skills whatsoever.

19 July
8:15AM*
(*It should be noted that 19 July was a Tuesday...one of my precious days off from work)

Sam: Hey can I come over? I think I left a bag at your apt 4th of July & I need it.
WISHS: You fucking text me before noon on my off day for a stupid fucking bag?!

8:35AM
Sam: I won't stay, I just want my bag. Let me know if I can get it after work please. :) (goddamn emoticons ruin my soul)
WISHS: You won't stay huh? Heard that before. How about I just leave the damn thing on the stairs outside then I don't have to see you.

Later that day, having successfully avoided the unwanted visitor for as long as possible, I begrudgingly opened my door and handed the bag through without saying more than a sentence or two. If I had only known that my lack of verbal banter would garner what came next, I would have slit my wrists in the bathroom.

4:35PM
Sam: I wish you would actually speak to me...just open up for once...or ask me what is going on...what is wrong...something...

4:38PM
Sam: It just...with everything else going on right now this is really starting to hurt.
Me (just to keep the ball rolling for the blog): Everything...?
WISHS: .....

4:43PM
Sam: Yes, everything. I am stuck in this freaking town with no way what so ever to achieve what I want. Every time I think I might actually have something good it all turns to shit.

4:46PM
Sam: It just seems no one gives a rats ass...I can wear myself thin helping others and being there for them, but when I am at my lowest, which as been lately, everyone has turn their back. I am ashamed to say that last night was my worst.
Me: What are you babbling about?
WISHS: Well, at least you have the shame thing working for you. That has to count for something that you recognize that when you do something stupid...or maybe you're a secret Catholic.

4:51PM
Sam: I just want one good thing to happen...nothing. Even though I thought it was...and I have been going for at least that one good thing to no avail.
WISHS: If you think I'm the good thing, thanks but I already told you no.

4:57PM
Sam: I am there for everyone and when I find something I want to go for, it goes to shit.
Me: Well, that's the nature of life.
WISHS: If you weren't so damn pessimistic all the fucking time and got off your ass to try for things, good stuff would happen. Good shit just doesn't fall from the sky because you want it, you have to actually DO something to get it.

5:09PM
Sam: I just felt like I had a purpose in life...I want to be a teacher, I want to get married and have kids....
WISHS: Whoa, horsey! I don't do phone proposals, nor would I say yes to you anyway.

5:21PM
Sam: I just see no hope for it.
WISHS: Welcome to life. Please leave your hope, love, trust, and general good feelings at the door, and we will begin the ass pounding shortly.

5:32PM
Sam: And my family stomped any hope of achieving my goals. They don't think anything about me. I'm not good enough for them even though I don't have any kids out of marriage...I'm still a flippin virgin for god's sake!
WISHS: Buy me tons of alcohol, get me good and drunk, and I'll fuck you...that way, you'll be good enough for your family by not being a virgin anymore.

6:05PM
Sam: Wanna watch the Rangers game with me?

6:07PM
Sam: You know...you should bring in a new ritual for your pregame stuff.
Me: Like what? (I was hoping for something amazing, and wasn't disappointed)

6:10PM
Sam: Nothing to dramatic...just give me a kiss before every game. That has to be good luck, right? Kiss from a pretty girl wouldn't hurt. :-p (fucking emoticons!)
WISHS: You're right, a kiss from a pretty girl wouldn't hurt...do you know any?

20 July
8:29AM
Sam: Dear Brian,
        Greetings and I hope you have a wonderful day...I am writing to say that I was wanting to join you some evening to hang out. Till the next time we speak. -Sam
WISHS: Dear Sam,
              The fact that you want to "hang out" screams only to me that you want to molest me repeatedly. As much as molestation can be fun, I prefer it to be by someone I actually give a shit about or is at least not borderline fucking insane.

That last one, I responded to much, much later with a polite no if only so that I could continue the debauchery that is/will be this blog. Until the next time...

Round One

It started innocently enough, as most things often do -- an impish chortle, some light flirtatious, if not esoteric and strange, banter. And an agreement to hang out, nothing more, nothing less. Oh, that the agreement should soon be bastardized! And I, not one to be willfully and wantonly rude, soon became overwhelmed with seething desires to see no more of she what would grow fastidiously into the stuff of legend, nay, nightmare.

3 July 2011

A day I would soon quickly rue. Prior to this we had hung out for the previous two days, in small doses, and I was itching to spend my Independence Day relishing just that. Oh, what a fool I was.

Sam: Hey, can I come over? We can watch the fireworks later. If you want.

Actual Response: Eh, I guess so.

What I should have said (WISHS): NO. Leave me, foul wench! Thy presence doth in me harbor feelings most egregious and hatred laden!

It should be noted that when I wish to convey insult, I sometimes tend toward the language of yore as it seems more eloquent.

Anyway, come she did. And hang out did we in the park watching the fireworks. At the conclusion I thought my duty was done and that I would then proceed with my holiday plans of familial gatherings on the morrow. Didn't happen. Sam took our hanging in the park as an invitation back to my apartment where she stayed. And stayed. And stayed until the wee hours of the morn and I at one point thought of brandishing my pistol.

4 July 2011, 10:00AM (approx)

I awaken from a slumber to a sound upon my perimeter; a sudden sort of tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping on my chamber door.

Bewildered I awake,

My mind flush with thoughts of chocolate cake.

And to my door I stumble.

My mind forms nary a mumble.

Knob turning in frustration,

And in walks that which now is an aberration.

My still slumbering mind formulates that this scenario is unwelcome, having just rolled from my bed I feel no want or need of company, least of all before having been caffeinated. I groggily make it through the morning, growing more agitated the longer I am awake and forced into the socially awkward situation of unwanted guests. Around one of the clock, I throw the bitch out making up the excuse that I need to go to my parents house for afternoon tea (we don't drink tea but it sounds fancier).

Later that evening....

Sam: Hey! :) <insufferable emoticons> Want to hang out? We can watch a movie (secret girl code for I want to sit next to you and think of molesting you while I brush against your body)

Actual Response: I'm not home. Hanging out with friends.

WISHS: I have seen thy face more than desired and desire to do so less than half the time which I had.

I really was hanging out with friends, but not until much later. Small lie, oh well. Problem is, the persistence with which Sam in endowed knows no bounds and the entire night I was receiving more and more inane texts as I tried enjoying the company I was in to the point that I stopped responding.

Sam: Hey you, hope ur having a good time. Wish I were there.

WISHS: Well, you are not and I grow happy with each passing moment.

Sam: ...Ok, guess u don't want to talk right now. Have fun with ur friends.

WISHS: A better time than seeing your face! 

Sam: Wish u would speak, I want to know u r alive. I drove by ur place to see if u were home so I could see u.

WISHS: Bitch, if I say I ain't home don't fucking drive by all creepy. And you will speak when spoken to, now goodbye.

Sam: Suppose ur still with ur friends...I was hoping u would stop by if u left at a decent hour. Guess I'm not important enough lol.

WISHS: Yep, still am. And drunk as a motherfucker which is why I'm talking to you. Talking to you sober sucks away my soul.

These messages were spaced out over the course of the night from 9PM until around 2AM at which point I imagine Sam collapsed in a heap of crying, depressed, lunacy and tears because I hadn't said a word in reply for almost 6 hours. Do I feel bad? Not really, but you will find out why as time passes...if you stick around.

The Prelude

The idea behind this blog is simple -- take SMS messages I have received from my new resident stalker and post them here in their creepy, awe-inspiring glory for all to see. I would go with screen caps but AndroidOS doesn't support that feature, nor am I smart enough or driven enough to figure out how to make it happen even though I know it is possible. That in itself would be hilarious, but the real fun and genius comes in then scripting in what my response to the texts would be if I were sending replies at all.

Now, all this sounds mean to all of you out there who are overly sensitive or have a conscience but allow me to elaborate on how this came about. The stalker in question, Sam*, is a girl whom at one point I had talked with and entertained the idea of possibly dating. Over the course of approximately 3 weeks, yes only 3 weeks, I slowly began to understand that just maybe that would be a bad idea and I made a break for it. The inevitability of the soul crushing, dream slaying "talk" reared its' head and I sallied forth head-on, making my position quite clear.

I may have those texts saved still, concerning the talk, so you may yet get to see those if I can find them. Anyway, so after making myself plainly clear, there was about 18 hours, give or take, that I was left alone in peace. And then it began...the soul torturing, the phone explosions, the outright creepy stalking that so far has only involved a really awkward note being left on my doorstep which I have included below.

How fucking awkward that was to come home and see a nonchalant threat staring me in the face after work. I am glad of two things in this ongoing battle for my sanity, 1) I own a gun, so I am protected 2) I do not own a rabbit, so there is no danger of coming home to find him in a stew pot on my stove one day.

In closing, I hope you enjoy this plunge into the macabre cabaret that has become my life.