Stalk-ward!

So, about a month ago, I posted a little blurb on the Duncreggan Student Village wall on Facebook about how I was going to be arriving on a certain date and how I could not wait to meet everybody.  Many people responded including this chick from New Jersey, whom I had stayed in contact with on Facebook up until we finally met on arrival weekend.  I figured the transition to a different country would be eased by knowing someone from my home and Jersey seemed like a cool enough chick to canoodle with.


My French room mate, Baby Francais, discovered me as well on Facebook before we even knew we were room mates.  I have yet to meet a few people who I have been in contact with, but I am sure I will get around to it.  


One of which has turned out to be a "wee bit" of a nightmare.  Stalker found me on Facebook and I barely spoke to him.  Maybe once or twice.  But nothing too in depth.  And it was not conversation anybody would really remember in the first place.  Sort of like a "Hey, there!" or "Can't wait to be in Derry..."  type of shit.  


On the first day that I was here, I was so pleased to find that my little dorm inside my flat had a window facing the Rugby field.  It stares out at a little pavilion where the smoker's tend to congregate and scream at all hours of the night.  I am on the second floor and I call my window "The Rapunzel Tower" because it is, like the perfect height off the ground for a sexy, Irishman to climb up.  If I had hair as long as Rapunzel.  Which I don't.  So, my ridiculum continues...


On the second night that I was here, I was invited by NewCastle and a few of his friends to go see a movie.  On this night, I met a few new friends including Banbridge, a first year and Belfast, a music student.  Jersey and I decided to tag along with them and walk about a mile down the road to the theater.  As we were exiting the student village, my facebook Stalker laid eyes on me.  He picked me out of a small crowd of people as we were walking towards the gates.  Jersey had located some people she had mingled with previously and shouted to them to come along, which I seconded.  Stalker took it as his invitation to come along.  


Normally, I am quite sensitive to people who have a social awkwardness or a very slight mental disability.  I did grow up with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and was a complete space cadet for a majority of my young adult life.  However, I was never socially awkward, just a bit shy in my younger years.  Perhaps, I have always been a bit of an introvert, but I overcame it when I discovered the wonderful world of theater and performing. Suck on that, ADD!  Look at me now...I'M GITTIN' PAYPA!!!!


Aaannnyyyywaaayyy...


Getting back to Stalker.  I understand that he has a sort of disorder and I respect it, as anyone should, but I do have a right to feel safe and have my own personal space.  As an American in a different country,  I have come to the realization that the personal space bubble is a fuck-ton smaller than it is in the U.S.A.  People stand closer to you.  Some hover a bit, even... which generally makes me nervous, but I am now just getting used to it.  Stalker hovers in the bubble about 3x closer than the others do.  Of course I am not going to be rude to this person, because he is just trying to be friendly, but I am going to be totally fucking honest.  It freaks me THE FUCK out!


He has Neville Longbottom's teeth from Harry Potter and a bit of a nasally, Northern Irish accent.  He followed us to the movies and sincerely just made the air a bit awkward for everybody.  When we discovered that we were all late to the movie, we all just decided to walk back and go to a party.  Jersey and I headed for my flat before Stalker could realize we were gone.  I thought that would be the end of it, but the student village is small... and this is me, and my fucking life, that we are talking about.  


The next day, Jersey and I are walking back from the University campus only to run into none other than Longbottom/ Stalker himself.  We noticed it was actually him about twenty feet before he had head-on approached us.  Ah, FUCK!!!  Jersey had a grin on her face because she knew how awkward the situation was about to get.  I guess if the situation was in reverse, I would laugh at it all as well. But, Bitch, tha' shit ain't funny!


As we neared closer and closer to the entity that is my Stalker, he spritely spoke the words, "'Ello, Dahnny!" To which I replied, "How are you doing today?"  He lifted his hand up to give me a high five to which I returned it.  He then kept his hand up as if to ask for another.  I stared at it, not wanting to double my high five.  My high fives are very few and far between and reserved for people I find close to me.  It is always awkward to give a high five to someone you don't know very well.  What if you miss?  Then the both of you are stuck in this limbo of whether you try again or just go on about your life without a second thought.  I hate awkward.  I avoid it at all costs.


The very next day after that, I was walking back from the gas station market when I sensed a presence following my ass.  Guess who, Mother Fucker!?!?!  I put a bit of speed into my step but he caught up to me quite quickly and walked way too close as we made our way back to the village.  My American personal space bubble had not only been penetrated, but completely disregarded as he talked to me with breath that I can only describe as drunken poopy pants breath.  Not only did his breath smell like my world was going to come crashing down, but his very own body odor was one of those smells that will stay in my nostrils for the rest of my life and be triggered by other relatable unpleasant aromas later on in my life.  So, in a sense, the memory of this odor may ruin me.  To the core.


Later on that evening, Jersey and I were invited to go out to a club and pre-game at our new friend Banbridge's flat that is block over from where mine is currently located.  About a half hour into our bottles of wine, Jersey and I are chatting about some nonsense in Banbridge's common area when Stalker sees me through the blinds and taps upon the glass window.  Jersey nervously laughs and says, "Oh my God, what the fuck!?" 


I wave awkwardly.  My morality wants to be a good person and smile and wave to this other person that is inhabiting the planet.  I do not enjoy giving the cold shoulder to a human being that has not done me wrong, but my self-awareness and creep-radar was sounding like fire alarm in my soul. My heart started pounding out of my rack.  


Years ago, when I was still attending community college,  I used to get followed to my car every other night when I would get out of one of my late-night classes.  One night, there were two guys leaning on my Jeep with a demonic look upon their faces as they stared me up and down.  I hit the panic button on my keys, but it only aggravated them to push me against the back windshield of my car and minorly assault me until I chopped one of them in the throat quite hard and kneed the other one in the ballzinis.  That nigga was on the ground, like whoa! And I say "nigga" with full belief that this nigga was a fuckin' rapist-type nigga.  I ran into the college building and reported it to the campus security and police.  Nothing was ever done about it except for the fact that those guys were not allowed to ever come near me or my Jeep again.  Don't mess with my Jeep.  Or my knee caps.  Nigga!


Flashbacks of being followed to my car started to flood my brain a bit when Stalker decided to enter my friend's flat without an invitation.  Guess he wasn't a vampire?  Not that this notion would make me rest any easier.  He entered the common room and walked straight up to me and stared at me with his hand in the air.  Jersey and I looked at him with our mouths half-open.  Oh, Dear Lord.  He waltzed right up to me and right through my personal space bubble and leaned over me.  My body odor nasal memories had just been activated once again.  


There are times when you appreciate having a good gag-reflex.  Like, for example~ this moment... and giving blow jobs.  However, blow jobs were the last thing on my mind at this particular second. *Shutter*


I looked at Jersey, whom, at this second, was masking her laughter by sipping on her wine bottle as she looked away.  The room was silent.  This was more than an opportune time to use my favorite excuse to get myself out of awkward situations...


"I have to pee." Got up.  Exited the common area.  Hid in Banbridge's room. 


One-by-one, several people that were already inside of the flat came into his room, asking who this strange kid was.  At one point, there were about ten of us in his small room with drinks in our hand, whisper-talking and questioning about this awkward-as-fuck kid.  Banbridge was standing in front of me as I sat in his computer chair, slumped like a snail, hiding from the infamous bubble-burster.  Not only was he blocking me, but a few others joined in the blockage wall as well when Stalker came to his doorway and started talking to the people inside.  The awkward-turtle air was filled with eye-talking and nervous smiles as he chattered on with my friends and tried to locate my whereabouts.  


About ten minutes later, he left the flat and I was free to wander, but I kept getting the feeling that he was staring at me through a window from the outside.  I closed all of the windows and blinds that I was able to find.  Eventually, the night progressed to a finale of going to the night club and dancing like a G6, sans the creeper.


The next morning, as I fiddled about on my computer (that sits by my Rapunzel window) I noticed him walking by and looking in.  I quickly leaned into my desk and behind my curtain.  I stayed there for about ten seconds and slowly bent backward to see if he was still there.  He was there.  He was still fucking there.  I could have vomited right that second, but instead, I gasped and hid under my desk.  There was a moment where I closed my eyes and wished him away.  I crawled on the floor and out of my room and into the flat's kitchen.  I macked on some Nutella for a few minutes and then crawled my way back into my room to find that he was finally gone.  I checked the walls around me, in hopes that he was not climbing up a gutter with his teeth, or something.


Now he knows where my flat is...


I unfriended and blocked him on facebook.


If I wake up to the the smell of his tooth breath... I will surely perish.