Enough With the Hummus

It all started after things ended with John. Of course. Stalkers are always watching; that's what they're good at.

Alone in my abode, I've come to live a "Mary Tyler Moore" existence, as Mrs. Ivery calls it. I go out and come back when I want. However, it happens that I happen to leave at the same time every morning as my neighbor, who we shall refer to as Dan. When I see Dan in the morning, he likes to ask rhetorical questions like "Is it cold enough out here for you?" That kind of question doesn't leave much room for an answer other than "yes".

Obviously the dude likes me. It's not a pride thing; it's a "you are obviously trying desperately to communicate with me" kind of thing. I mean, what's the point, other than getting someone's attention to ask such questions? I believe there are far better verbal portals for open dialogue, but the rhetorical question approach seems to me the laziest way to engage another. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I'm not sure I want to engage with this guy.

Well, being the person I am, one night over Christmas break, I had my first real conversation with Dan. I pulled into the parking spot in front of my apartment, and I was walking to my front door when I looked over to see Dan standing by his giant truck.

"I like your truck, " said I.

Had I recalled at the time that I was living in the South, I would have known that those words are the way to any man's affection down here. What followed was a talk that at first was about a truck and then became more personal. It went from truck talk to evil ex-wives talk to you should meet my four kids talk. And then he asked me how old I was, and I told him my age. To my answer, he responded, "I'm 30!" At the time, I failed to realize that being in the same decade equates to love at first sight.

So then he said that we should get dinner sometime. Great. Where's your overprotective dad when you need him? I told him that I was going through a break-up and wasn't interested in seeing anyone. That subtlety landed on deaf ears, because after a couple more sentences about his second divorce he asked me again. And I turned him down nicely (which I didn't have to do). Before it was all said and done, he had asked me out to dinner thrice.

Somewhere in the talk, I inserted the fact that I live alone. Freakin' wing nut idiot! I regretted sharing that information as it was tumbling out of my mouth. So it was confirmed before his very ears... I was alone relationally and physically. He had to be thinking, "It's only a matter of time."

Can I read minds? No. But I can read actions pretty easily. Fifteen minutes after our rendezvous ended, I was sitting on my love seat and reading a book in peace. That's until I heard a knock on my front door. It startled me, and immediately I knew it was Dan. It had to be... All my teacher friends, Berry friends, and sane friends were either out of town or asleep. It was after 12am!

So I just sat there and waited for him to leave. Five minutes passed and some knocking... This time I was thinking about a way out of the apartment. Afraid he would see my movement through the blinds, I somehow managed the courage to sneak up to my bedroom. As I peered through the blinds, I saw him walk back to the stoop of his apartment. He then proceeded to light and smoke a cigarette. As I watched Dan, he seemed to be looking straight at me. Could he see me?

Maybe so, because then he walked over to my apartment and continued to pound out his desire to see me... this time, on my back door. At this point I really should have called the police, but I called the only people I knew to be in town: the Smiths. They retrieved me, in my frantic state, and I stayed at their house for the night.

....to be continued....