Welcome to my happily ever after...
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pancakes and roses
I have started an entry about three times and hated everything I wrote and threw the whole thing out. I don't really have anything to write about right now.
Nothing at all to report today. I am going out tomorrow night with my friend Thomas to JRs and South Beach, so that should be an interesting change of pace. South Beach is the club I wrote about that I went to when Seth was in town. Honestly, that was the last time that I've been out in Houston to the bars, and it will be nice to go out with some guy friends for a while. Nothing against my grrls...I just need some feminine companionship this weekend.
Oh my gosh! I still have two hours to go before I can go home. What should I write about?
I know! Did I mention that I ran into an old stalker the other night when I was waiting in line at Ming's for my Chinese takeout? What was that you just said? You want me to tell you the story?
(Sighing) Ok...I'll tell ya. Just don't get mad and tell me all I do is talk about myself! Get comfy....it's a long story.
When I moved to the small town where I went to college in 1992, you would know that the first week there, I met a guy named Charlie who lived a couple of hours away. So I chatted with him on the phone a few times, and then one weekend he came to visit me for the weekend. I had an okay time, but it definitely wasn't a love connection. Yet I slept with Charlie, which turned out to be a big mistake. I know what you are thinking...SLUT! Perhaps.
(As an aside, Charlie's erect penis had a 90 degree angle which pointed to the right. I could have practically hung him on the clothes rod in my closet. Also, it stuck straight out, so when we lay in bed and he had an erection, it was like a damn tent pole under the covers. Has anyone ever seen anything like that before? It freaked me out)
Anywho, the guy becomes a bit obsessive and starts calling all the time and hanging up on my machine. That was about the time that *69 came out, and let me tell ya, it was the bomb back then. Only problem was that you couldn't see who it was while they were actually calling....you had to wait until it stopped ringing to dial the *69 to find out. So as a result, I just stopped answering the phone altogether unless I knew who it was prior.
One night, I get a phone call from him, and he leaves a message telling me that he was coming to my town to get his car worked on (?) and that he would be spending the night. I immediately ran outside and moved my car to the apartment complex across the street so it wouldn't look like I was home. It didn't work...two hours later I had him beating on my bedroom window yelling "I know you are in there...let me in!" and "I see your car across the street!" So I sat in my closet with all the apartment lights off while holding a penlight, writing in my journal how freaky this guy was. Somehow or another, I fell asleep lying there on the closet floor in my PJs, and the next morning I was awakened to someone knocking on my front door around 8 AM. Being half asleep, I padded to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole, and lo and behold, it was Charlie! He was holding roses in one hand and takeout breakfast in the other. I was hoping that he would be mad at me and never speak to me again. No such luck!
Come to think of it, no mention was made about having his car worked on, which was his whole story about coming to town in the first place.
It took forever to get rid of Charlie, and I hadn't seen him in ten years until the other day. Well, I am not quite sure if he recognized me, seeing as how I only get better looking the older I get (ha!). But I did nod at him and act like I knew who he was. I just hope that he doesn't live in my neighborhood! I have too many shoes to hide in the closet these days...
Have a good weekend, all.
1:55 p.m. - 2002-03-22
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