I Once Had A Creepy Stalker

stalkerDuring a game of drunken Truth or Dare in college, my friends and I decided that the best course of action was to go around the room talking about our sexual fantasies. By the time it was my turn, we’d already heard from everyone including Matt, my friend Matthias’s roommate. He’d spun some elaborate tale I hadn’t followed involving some older woman that he’d screwed in the pool room of the hotel he’d worked, but he had shifty eyes so I totally didn’t believe him. I was beyond loaded, so I couldn’t figure out why the room was looking at me expectantly.

When they nudged me to speak, I slurred out, “I…dunnooo…I just….like…sex?” In hindsight, I should have kept my whore mouth firmly shut.

A Grave Error In Judgement

Whether it was that drunken proclamation, punctuated by stabbing myself in the leg with a lit cigarette or that I’d said “hello” to him when I walked into the apartment, I can’t be sure, but I made a grave error in judgement. While the rest of the room rolled their eyes and laughed at me being a drunk asshole, Matt fell deep into..something with me.

I must have made quite the impression that night, because the following weekend when we were both in our hometown I got a phone call from him. It seemed that he wanted to meet up that evening for dinner. Being that I was in town to see my family, I politely declined and he hung up on me angrily. What I didn’t realize was that I was about to unleash an unholy shit storm neatly atop my own oblivious head.

Let The Creeping Begin

I’ve since gotten better about reading people, but at the time, I was pretty naive and mistook his shifty eyes for “needing to replace his contacts” not “being a fucking psychopath.” Bad move, Aunt Becky, bad move. By the time I crawled back to my shoebox of a dorm on Sunday night, my roommate looked at me somewhat wide-eyed and said, “Someone named ‘Matt’ has been calling you every ten minutes for the past three hours. He won’t leave a message but he’s kinda creeping me out because he gets mad every time I tell him you’re not here.” Well, fuck.

The following week, I began to receive reports of Matt hanging around our dorm and the phone calls continued unrelentingly. Finally the following week, I stumbled blearily out of the dooms with the throngs of other students making their way to 9AM classes, when I saw Matt hanging out by the gigantic fountain that we called The Ashtray. He was scanning the crowd intently, clearly looking for someone and I kept my head down and managed to walk right past him without him noticing me. When I returned from class, I saw him there again. He caught my eye and trapped in his line of sight, I walked up to him. He asked if I wanted to get lunch, and I told him the truth, I had other plans, and rather than accept that gracefully, he stomped away, angry.

I stood there for a couple of moments, dumbfounded. Certainly, I wasn’t going to date him, but I would have been his friend, jagged edges and all, before that little tantrum. After that stunt, however, absolutely not. I found out that he’d harassed all of the people that had been at the party about what a horrible bitch I was.

A couple of nights later, I called over to Matthias’s apartment in search of Matthias, and Matt answered the phone. Rather than call him out on his bad behavior, I figured it was best to pretend that the entire situation hadn’t happened, so I simply asked if Matthias was home. Recognizing my voice, he growled, “NO!” into the phone and hung it up without so much as asking if he could take a message.

Well, then. I’d had enough. I turned to the dorm room which was full of my friends and said, “Fucker just hung up on me.”

Time For Some Payback

Outraged, and knowing that Matt had been a jackass to both Matthias—who wouldn’t hurt a fly—and me, who really didn’t deserve the anger, we hatched a plan. We didn’t get mad, we got even. My friend Pashmina acted first.

She grabbed the phone, dialed the number and when Matt answered, she said very sweetly, “Hi Matt, it’s Pashmina, you know, Matthias’s friend? Well, I was calling to see if Matthias was home. We were going out and wanted to see if he could come with us to the coffee shop…” On and on she droned about her boring plans. Eventually, she hung up the phone and handed it to James, who dialed the number.

“Hi, this is James. Is Matthias there? I was calling to invite him to study with me in the library for our history midterm and I know he likes to study with a partner…” on and on James went about his plans for the evening. Eventually he hung up, passing the phone to Pashmina’s roommate, Marcy. This continued no less than eight times. Each of us, calling with some long-winded, rambling story about why we needed to see Matthias and what we were doing and blah, blah, blah. It must have been excruciating for him to listen to.

What can I say? My friends love me. More importantly, my friends also know a good time when they see it.

After we all had made our calls to Matt, we sat around smoking our cigarettes and nursing our tall rum and Cokes looking at each other and laughing at our ingeniousness. There was no way Matt would be bothering any of us again because we were too fucking annoying. If he was childish, we could beat him at that game.

About half an hour after the last phone call, one by one, we all called Matt back, telling him not to have Matthias call us, after all, because, wouldn’t you know it? PLANS HAD CHANGED. I think after the third or fourth phone call, he finally took the phone off the hook. I can’t believe it took him that long.

After that, though, we all noticed that Matt would deliberately go out of his way to avoid all of us when we’d cross paths on campus. If he’d spy me walking his way, he’d walk across the quad so as not to accidentally sideswipe me. I suddenly had gone from hot ticket to plague-bearer and I couldn’t have been happier. He never bothered any of us ever again.

About Mommy Wants Vodka

Bored by mini-vans, life in the child lane, and pot-pie recipes, Becky began to write on her blog, Mommy Wants Vodka in 2007. She was as shocked as anyone to find out that people actually wanted to read what she wrote. Instead of living a swinging life of weekends in the Congo and curing baldness while holding crack babies, she stays home with her three children. An unpaid, kept woman.

Comments

  1. AAAAHHHHHHH!

    I’ve had a creepy stalker before. But I also spent 3 years in a relationship with him first. Don’t know how I didn’t see that one coming.

  2. Creepy stalkers can be um, creepy….had an ex that was so bad, I had to move, buy a new car, and change to a private unlisted phone number….for the longest time would take different routes to and from work, just in case.

    The last straw? He sent a note to my 5 year old’s daycare, telling her how mean I was and that he missed her. Hello creepazoid? Restraining order. The end.

  3. I love that you annoyed a stalker into submission. That is skill!

  4. I’ve had so many stalkers, it’s kind of amazing. Or freaky. I don’t know.

  5. What is it about Beckys and stalkers? Every Becky I’ve known has had one including my sister…

  6. No one does love or revenge better than a woman

  7. I had a congressman write some legislature once because of a stalker experience I had via the internet. I think your way of handling it was much more amusing, though.

  8. Melanie, you’re the smart one. I am stupid. As I was writing this, I was all “stupid, STUPID girl!” (myself)

  9. Stephanie says:

    So cool.
    I dealt with my stalker by making sure charges were filed for the criminal mischief, and protective order followed by some extra ammo for my 9mm and a new address.

  10. The cyber stalkers really were freaking me out a bit at first, now I’m like all badass and bring it on fucker, because I am dying to taser someone without assault charges being pressed and a stalker would totally be the perfect excuse!!! That would be genius! Lure my stalkers out so I could finally use a taser legally, OMJ, I am getting hot just thinking about it. (secretly hope cyberstalker is reading this, come get some big boy, it’s police issue and turned all the way up, oh yeaaaahhhh)

  11. Problem with stalkers? Start a blog! The internet would never house creepy people with compulsive behavior and a misunderstanding of normal social relationships….

    By the way, great story, good fun.

  12. Even better than a blog, start a Twitter account that broadcasts your whereabouts to all of your followers.

  13. What a great story. Because it ended well.

    And some guys wonder why no one will date ‘em.

  14. What a great way to get back at a stalker. Some guys have “creeper” written all over them. I would know … *shudder

  15. I think I was more of the stalker type than the stalkee. You know, back in college when I was insecure…

  16. I had a stalker….which amazes me cause have you ever SEEN me? Anyway, I guess I could barely even consider him a stalker because he would never hurt a fly. He just always showed up at work and wanted to hang out after work, or I would be out shopping and he’d mysteriously be in the petites area shopping….or at times, I would find a small gift on my windshield, like a rose or something with a little note from him. It was nice….after I moved 100 miles away, it all ended. Sometimes I wish he’d find me…..the attention was nice and like I said, he was harmless.

  17. Hmph. Guess I’m not cool enough to have a stalker, unless you count that guy I “dated” for 2 weeks when I was 13, and then dumped. Poor guy kept calling and calling. Or unless the peeping Tom I had in college counts. I actually got my revenge on that one. My boyfriend at the time was home when we discovered the Tom. He ran outside (picture January in New England, icy snow everywhere) in his UNDERWEAR and tackled the dude in the parking lot of my apartment complex while I called the police. Turns out, it’s not actually a crime, and they didn’t arrest him, but he never came back, that’s for sure!!!

  18. Jennifer, actually, I had to clean someone out of my comments who was making lewd comments about you. SRSLY.

  19. AvionicsMan says:

    Great revenge!! What a stupid ass!!

  20. Enamored - but not in an icky creep way says:

    @Karin ~ because Beckys, I dunno, “…just….like…sex”.

    @ Aunt Becky Even better than a blog, start a Twitter account that broadcasts your whereabouts to all of your followers.

    I did! I play a 23 yo bicurious nymphomaniac stripper that’s not into commitment just frequency, and then I have them meet me in crowded Starbucks and watch the hilarity ensue. ROFLMA They never peg me as the Fat Guy with the mullet… HAAAA!

    oh shit, I hope none of them are reading this.

  21. Next time, I’m just gonna say “I just…like…restraining orders.”

  22. Twitter location takes all the fun out of it. I like a more hands-on approach…I mean stalkers do! Not me! Stop staring at the bush out the window!

  23. i so have not arrived. i never had any stalker drama in my life. how ’bout the ones that sneak up and cut their idols! that’s like really intense. then i could get tons of police *and* medical attention. that’s like hitting the Munchausen syndrome lottery!

  24. Enamored – You are in denial. That is totally icky creepy.

  25. Bwahahaha, Mario, I love you.

  26. @Melissa ~ yeah, but in this case, for all the right reasons….muah ha ah ha hah….

  27. You…love….me?

  28. But of course, Mario. You’re fucking hilarious.

  29. *shakes head*

    This is how you got the stalker in the first place. Keep telling people you love them and I’ll just have to keep digging through your garbage for discarded underwear.

  30. Ah, but I save my undies in a jar. See? CREEPY.

  31. What a coincidence, that’s where I save the ear from the last blogger I stalked.

    (Ok, I’ll stop now)

  32. Nicely done! I have to say Matt had excellent manners. He didn’t interrupt or simply hang up. Or were your friends so good that he couldn’t get in a word at all?

  33. I’m still shocked he didn’t hang up. I SO would have.

  34. I discovered a unique by-product of my job is that discussing it is possibly the most effective anti-stalker/creepy jerk method in the world.
    I once got stuck sitting next to this creep on the tram. Complete degenerate, which, hey, normally I get along with (like minds, and all ;)), but this guy was clearly had some sort of size issue and was trying to be intimidating.
    I, on the other hand, had spent the entire week experimenting on mice determined to gnaw off my hand, so I was in no mood for bullshit. So I started chatting about work with my co-worker, comparing how many small, helpless critters we had killed and carved up that week.
    At one point, my co-worker had to relocate, which meant she politely requested that he move his feet off the seat opposite mine so she could sit there. He moved his feet…. and stuck his hands down his pants and started massaging his balls.
    Co-worker and I shared a single glance, then, evil glints a twinkling in our eyes, started comparing our current work to the days when we had to dissect out the mice’s testicles. His hands stilled, then edged slowly out of his pants, like his balls were sending the frantic message of ‘Don’t get their attention!’.
    Coworker mentioned how amazing it was that you just pulled on a vessel, and out popped their testes. ‘Like Jack in the box!’ I cried, cutely, as we giggled about how soft and fleshy they were, how they’d bounce up and down when you jiggled them.
    The tram pulled up to its stop, and the jerk threw himself out. I gave my coworker a wide eyed look, and said innocently,
    ‘Was it something we said?’

    We laughed about it for, oh, at least a week.

  35. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA This cracks me the fuck up!! Only you would come up with a plan that awesome!! You are such a rockstar!!!!!!!

Speak Your Mind

*

CommentLuv badge