Because everyone who has bad luck needs a stalker...

Well, "Stalker" is a strong word.  How about person that may be obsessed with me that sets off my creep-o-meter?

Now let me explain. Nobody should be stalking me, of all people.  I'm not particularly interesting, I don't lead a strange double-life.  I'm definitely not of celebrity status- not even celebrity look-a-like status. 

And, ok, maybe she technically isn't stalking me.  She hasn't shown up at my dorm room yet, so thank whoever for small favors.
BUT, as far as I'm concerned, my Creep-O-Meter is maxed out.

 

Again, let me explain.  I've engaged in conversation with this GIRL (yes, I'm being stalked by a fellow chick) just once.  And that only happened because I was stuck waiting for a shuttle in an enclosed area in which she apparently found the silence to be awkward and suffocating.  Well she was right about the awkward, but it wasn't the silence that was uncomfortable and forced.

I didn't plan on talking to her again, I mean, we just agreed that our State and Local Government teacher is a jerk.  Not exactly the foundation on which you build lifelong bonds.

To me anyway.

Apparently she thinks we're BFF's.  How she got that idea, I don't know.  Must have something to do with being a stalker-person.

Now, to make myself feel less violated and better about my own personal life I could go on and make fun of her clothes and hair and shit like that just to make myself feel better.  BUT that's probably the kind of dick move that could have gotten me this bad karma in the first place.

So.. what follows is a NON-JUDGMENTAL description of my stalker that may seem judgmental. But I am trying.

She has brown hair that pretty much every brunette seems to have before they give up their hair dye virginity.  It's curly and frizzy and she still uses variously colored clips to hold it back instead of the plain black bobby pins everyone else reverted to way back in high school.  It was those things I noticed first, because before she turned and started talking to me I was trying to see past her head to discern if the shuttle had arrived yet.  Didn't quite work.  At first appearance she would appear to look like the shy wallflower type that you may have talked to in high school because all of the jocks were jerks.  And she may have been that in high school.  Maybe she's fighting back now, but she is loud and swears because she thinks it's cool, not because it's a natural part of the college lingo.  She tries to stand out when it's no longer cool to do so, like yelling "PRESENT" or "HEY!" during attendance call instead of the normal, non-annoying "Here".  She then looks around for acceptance of said actions.  I don't know if she finds it or not. 

There. General description.

You're probably wondering what this chick did to me. Yeah, I haven't gotten there yet.  It started slow.

First, she got all up in my personal space on the shuttle.  If there are open seats, don't sit next to me.  Seriously.  She gets too close when she talks.

 

(Note: The Vitruvian Man shows an excellent depiction of the personal space "bubble".  My stalker pops the bubble as often as possible)

If she doesn't try to sit next to me on the shuttle, she tries to get my attention.  Apparently giving it to her the first couple of times was a mistake.  I knew being a good person would screw me over eventually.


So this was the tame stuff.  She would stare at me, I would try to ignore.  She would try to corner me in class or on the shuttle to talk to me, I would somehow not see her standing there.

And then there was the door incident.

Again, with the personal space.  The Worcester  academic building has two doors that open outwards.  So when entering you have to pull them towards you, bringing your elbow back as you do so.  Seeing as your elbow should extend not more then 6 inches behind your body when opening a door, it shouldn't bump into someone. 

At first, I was horrified.  I just elbowed someone in the gut.  And then, oh yes, I WAS STILL HORRIFIED. Because, not only did I elbow someone in the gut, but that someone was stalker-person.  And stalker person shouldn't have been close enough to be elbowed in the gut.  Therefore, stalker person was literally shadowing me while I was blissfully unaware listening to the Lion King Broadway Soundtrack. Stalker-person had been on the shuttle I had ridden to Worcester, so it's entirely possible that she did this the entire walk to the academic building from the shuttle.


So, stalker-person was beathing down my neck, and I scuttled away in a panic, to the class we both share, where she decided to stare at me much of the time.


Maybe this isn't the average stalker-story, and maybe it's not that bad.  But I'm CREEPED OUT. 

At least she doesn't know where I live....that I know of.