Tuesday, September 21, 2004

lock up your daughters

Stalker update.

Actually, before I discuss that, I'd like to warm up the crowd with an observation. I'm tough. Extraordinarily tough. I've survived 2 and one-fourths years of law school and West Nile. They don't come much tougher than The Hoov. But that's not the observation. The observation is: If you come home at 3 in the morning, from watching The Ring at a friend's house, and you see that your cell phone is showing the voicemail icon, it doesn't matter how tough you are, even if you're as tough as me, you will think to yourself: Oh haaaale no that thing better not say "seven days."

Let the update commence.

I am very grateful to ChrisA and her continued updates on my stalker's strategery. Today's fare comes from a conversation she had with a high-school girl that was hanging around ChrisA's place of employment, and who claims to be very close friends with [stalker].

Here are the latest things that [stalker] has said about me/us:

1. I'm a Republican.

Whoah. Ok, there's crazy, and then there's crazy. I mean, accusing me of dating a high-school girl is one thing, but to accuse me of being a Republican? Give me some credit. I'm not that sick.

2. My FCC paper is 400 pages long

Everyone who knows me is fully aware of the fact that the paper about 90 pages, with an absolute minimum at 80 pages. They know this because I talk about it constantly. Apparently, she is under the impression that I'm writing an FCC textbook.

3. I have black leather couches.

Nope. Tan. And they're not really leather, they're some kind of faux-suede. I'm sure a few of my female readers can testify to this. Yeah I said it.

4. We got caught making-out on my black leather couches.

Sick. Real sick. Like, Naomi Watts pulling that long strand of hair out of her mouth in The Ring kind of sick.

5. My mom caught us making out on my black leather couches.

Yes, she is actually telling people that this happened. My mom doesn't just drop by my house unannounced. Probably because she's afraid she'll walk in on me making-out with a high school chick. Which thankfully, hasn't happened since high school. No, seriously, this girl's insane.

6. We got into a "lover's quarrel" on Saturday night.

Ok, try and follow me on this one. Apparently, I was supposed to meet her at Sugar Brown's on Saturday night, and I was an hour late, so she called me (on a cell phone to which she does not know the number) and I was out drinking with friends. Believable. Except when you tell that story to anyone who knows me and who will promptly tell you that I don't drink, and if I did, I wouldn't be now because I'm under the 9:30 leadership contract. Well, I did go through that phase at the end of last semester, but she doesn't know that, and neither do you.

It gets worse. So we get in a fight and she calls my mom. And my mom "fixed it". This is so completely looney that it doesn't need any comedic commentary from me, as it stands just fine on its own. Read it again and bask in the looniness.

7. We've been dating for four years

If you don't find the idea of a 3rd year law student dating a high school senior to be extremely gross, just think about a junior in college dating a 9th grader. Never mind the fact that I've had 2.5 girlfriends since then, who I suppose I must have been cheating on with an unattractive, insane high school girl.

8. I'm 22.

Ok, now she's just an idiot. I'm 24. I know full well that there's no way she could honestly believe that I'm 22, but I guess that sounded like it would be more believable to a gaggle of her co-idiot high school friends.

9. [Stalker] and her best friend meet every Thursday morning to pray about our relationship.

Oh yeah, the hits just keep on comin'. She had to pull the God-card. Not that God couldn't bless something that doesn't exist, but in my experience, he doesn't make a habit of it. Dear God, please bless my relationship with [stalker] and please bless my pet dragon. Amen. This best friend is the same one who keeps ChrisA informed of the entire sordid mess.

I am much appreciative of ChrisA for laying aside her perpetual tactfulness in order to laugh in this girl's face and tell her that her friend is a complete nutbar. A king-size PayDay.

What's frustrating is that I don't have an alibi for Saturday night, as I just stayed in and worked on my paper. So it looks like all I have with which to clear my name is a valid driver's license, a John Kerry bumper-sticker, a 90-page paper, and 2.5 girls to testify that my couch is tan.

Yeah I said it.